


Take a Bite of My Heart Tonight

by Ims0s0rry



Category: Jane the Virgin (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Beauty and the Beast Fusion, F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-31
Updated: 2019-02-17
Packaged: 2019-08-11 16:31:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 39,980
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16479047
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ims0s0rry/pseuds/Ims0s0rry
Summary: Luisa takes a wrong turn and ends up in a swamp. With neither a working phone nor car, she's stranded for the night. Only she's freezing and needs to pee. Luckily, there's an abandoned house up ahead where she can spend the night.But it's not abandoned. And Rose hates visitors.Luisa's determined to change her mind.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Oh god, why did no one stop me from writing this?

“I really appreciate that you came all the way out here for me,” Raf says, grinning at her as they walk out of the hotel into the searing sunshine. Luisa heard on the news this morning that New England’s been hit by another snowstorm. She loves Florida in February. A bright yellow Maserati is parked in front, the valet staring hopefully at Raf.

Luisa’s just notarized the deed handing it over to him. Three years ago she’d woken up delirious from a fever dream, convinced that a disembodied voice had told her she needed to be the best her she could be. Since then, she’s been certified in everything from being an ASL interpreter to a master sommelier to her pilot’s license. Raf accused her once of just wanting to add a string of letters after her name on her business cards. She’d responded that he could go find someone else to notarize deeds for fancy cars for him. He took it back.

She dismisses his thanks with a floppy wave of her hand. “Don’t be ridiculous. I’m always happy to help. That’s what I’m here, besides giving you helpful advice, like telling you to stop styling your hair like that because you’re giving off major douche vibes.”

He brings his hand to his hair, but doesn’t touch it to avoid messing up the spikes. “Selena loves it, just so you know.”

“Yeah, okay. You owe me $20 when she breaks up with you on...Tuesday night.”

“What? No way. We’re doing great. And how can you even pinpoint it to Tuesday night?”

“Saturn is entering the seventh house. It’s a bad time for relationships in your chart.”

Raf snorts. “I’ll take it. Easy way to scam $20 out of you.”

Luisa smirks. “Shake on it. It would be just like you to conveniently forget when you do break up with Simone.”

“Selena.”

“Yeah, whatever.”

…

It’s a 3.5 hour drive back to Cocoa Beach, where she lives now. It’s nice to be back in Miami and see Rafael, but Miami is a better place to visit than to live. Especially since their father passed away from a heart attack. A part of her will always miss the nightlife, the people, that special Miami feel, but it’s better for her out here, away from the hotel. Away from all the drama the Marbella can’t help but attract.

Night falls as she drives. She sings along to bad 90s songs and allows herself to daydream. She’s driven this route enough times to find her way home, or so she thinks. At one point she must take a wrong turn because instead of the familiar road home, she finds herself in the ominous Florida swampland.

She pulls over on the overgrown path and digs through her purse for her phone. Dead. She sighs. Sometimes she can’t believe that people think she has her life together when things like this happen. She is 35 years old and has no idea where she is with no way to get directions home.

She squints at the few feet that her headlights pierce into the gloom and inches forward. She hopes no one comes in the other direction. The road, if it can be called that, is so narrow she doesn’t know how she’d let the other car pass by.

But all is quiet. She doesn’t see a single soul.

Right when she makes out what she thinks is a roof poking out of the foliage, her car shudders and gives out.

“No no no. Come on.” She turns the key in the ignition again and again, but after an initial sputter, the engine doesn’t make a sound. “Piece of shit,” she mutters.

She sighs and bangs her head on the steering wheel. This really isn’t her day. She’s willing to sleep in her car and wait for morning when abnormally thick fog starts to roll in. She chafes at her arms. Another oversight. She doesn’t have a blanket or anything in the car and it feels like temperatures are approaching freezing. (She was born and raised in Florida. Anything under 60 is basically freezing.) And she needs to pee.

She peers up at the vague shape of the roof. The moonlight struggles through the thick cloud cover to barely highlight its shadowy shape. It can’t be more than a half mile away.

 _Well, I’ve always wanted to see if there were murderers out here in the boonies_ , she thinks cheerily to stave off the stirrings of fear she feels.

 _Oh I’ve made a mistake_ , she thinks as she gets out of the car. Her sandals have sunk straight into the cold, squishy mud. _Fuck my life_. Not to be overdramatic or anything, but she is ready to be murdered by any serial killers lurking out here now. But she closes her eyes and takes a deep breath as she pulls her feet free of the mud, one squelch at a time, and takes off her sandals.

With a single mournful kick at her car door, she pulls her light cardigan tighter around her and heads off toward the building.

It seems like a lot longer than half a mile when she reaches an imposing gate. It seems to be in pretty good condition, hardly screeching in protest when she gives it an experimental push. She freezes. No, she reassures herself. It’s much too early in the horror movie for the oblivious heroine to be murdered. If she’s going to be murdered, it’ll be in the house itself. For some reason, it’s not as reassuring as she thought it would be.

She peers up at the house (mansion?) itself, scared that she’s walked all this way with numb feet only to find a shell of a building. But although it’s in disrepair (she can see tiles of the roof peeling off, the stone exterior is cracked in places and mossy), there are still four walls and everything. No gaping holes. Worse comes to worst, it’s abandoned and she can find a moth-eaten blanket to huddle under for the night. She ignores that persistent little voice that whispers that no, the worst thing that could happen that there’s a zombie crocodile lying in wait to rip off a limb. She shivers violently, her breath starting to fog. The temperature is dropping rapidly. She doesn’t know if she’s ever been so cold in her life.

Luckily the ground seems more stable here so she’s not slogging her way through anymore. But now the mud is starting to crust over. Her feet are freezing. She hurries up the path to the wide double doors, cursing quietly when she steps on spiky things (thorns? Dried leaves? Human skeletons? She doesn’t know. She doesn’t care.)

She squints in the gloom, looking for a doorbell or an old fashioned pull or something, but the only thing she can see is a pair of door knockers. Identical gargoyles with rings in their mouth. She bangs the ring against the heavy wood, jumping back when the left door creaks open.

At this point, she’s more resigned to whatever happens than anything. She’s too cold to care if she gets murdered.

“Hello?” she calls out as she pokes her head into the house. She gives her feet a quick wipe on the faded doormat and cautiously steps inside. The inside is as dark and dingy as the outside, but most importantly, it’s indoors. “Is anyone here? I’m shutting the door! Oh thank god, it is so warm in here. I felt like I was gonna die out there. Well, I might die here considering I’m all alone in a seemingly empty house in the middle of nowhere but I’ll take my chances—”

A very distinct shadow flits across the second landing.

She nods to herself. “Yeah, okay. That’s fair. I’ll admit it probably shouldn’t have come inside without permission and it is totally within your rights as an American, and a Floridian in particular, with our weird mix of southern conservatives and general bizarre population, to kill me. But can you make it quick?”

The shadow flickers and gathers at the base of the stairs. It’s too dark for Luisa to make anything out other than a solid form. Then it stretches upwards, growing, until it towers over her. “You don’t get to break into my house and make demands,” it rumbles.

Luisa can feel the bass of its voice vibrate in her ribcage. She feels her fear starting to lift. Having an actual form to look at is somehow less frightening than general nebulous fear. She’s more intrigued than afraid now. “Okay, but it’s hardly breaking and entering if the doors were already unlocked, is it?”

“Regardless, it’s trespassing. Leave.” Then oddly, out of everything it could do, it sighs. “This is why I moved out here in the first place and yet I still end up with nosy people showing up at my door,” it says, mostly to itself, it seems. It turns back to her. “I’m not running a hotel, you know. First that dumb fairy and now you.”

“Oh, I would if I could,” Luisa says earnestly. “Seemingly empty house occupied only by a deep-voiced shadow in the middle of a swamp? This is like prime horror movie real estate. But I’m stranded. I guess I took the wrong exit on my way home because I ended up here and both my phone and car are dead. I was going to spend the night in my car but I forgot that I didn’t pack any overnight essentials, like a flashlight or a blanket or any other source of warmth and it’s basically winter out there.” She pauses. “And I really need to pee.”

It growls.

“Please,” Luisa says. “You wouldn’t throw out a poor, harmless cinnamon roll only seeking shelter for the night, would you?” She bats her eyelashes.

“This cutesy thing isn’t really working for you. I don’t even know you. How do I know _you’re_ not a serial killer?”

She laughs. She can’t help it. “Me? Look, the only thing I have on me is my purse. You can look through it if you want. Otherwise, I can just sleep right here in front of the door. I just wanted to get out of the cold for the night.” She thinks it over before she adds, “My name is Luisa, if that helps.”

“It doesn’t.” It sighs again. “But I’ve been burned before. You can have the pull-out couch in the den for the night. It’s next to the radiator.”

“Thank you, thank you, thank you for your hospitality. I’ll find a way to repay you, I swear.”

“Don’t bother. I want you out of here first thing in the morning. That’s all the thanks I’m looking for.” It turns and starts to walk, a strange loping gait, further into the house. “Come on. There’s a bathroom down this way.”

Luisa trots after it, thrilled at having a place to stay accompanied by such an intriguing host.

She notices that she still hasn’t gotten a good look at it. It’s leaning against the wall under a shadowy overhang when she pops out of the bathroom. She pays more attention as it leads her to the den, always sticking to the darkness.

It wasn’t lying. The den is warm. Luisa pulls off the couch cushions, seriously considering making a fort out of them, before she strains, trying to pull out the bed. Her host has left to find her a set of sheets. With an almighty grunt, the bed springs out of the couch. Luisa is halfway through making a decent fort when the figure returns.

“That doesn’t look very comfortable,” it says, throwing her the sheets.

She oofs as they hit her in the face. “Comfort is in the eye of the beholder,” she responds as she fluffs open a sheet and lays it on top of the structure before she tries to squeeze into it.

“I don’t think that’s how the saying goes.”

“In any case, thank you for being so kind to me...” She trails off, waiting for it to introduce itself. When it doesn’t say anything, she says, “I’m sorry, I didn’t catch your name.”

There’s a long silence where the figure stares at her (or at least Luisa thinks so. She can’t make out any defining features) before it says, “Rose. My name is Rose.”

Luisa nods like the information didn’t surprise her. “That’s a very pretty, classic name. And just for future reference, what are your pronouns?”

She catches the movement as something massive shifts in the darkness. It could be a shrug of the shoulders? If Rose even has shoulders? “She/her is fine.”

Luisa grins. “See? We’re not strangers anymore.”

“Just because we know each other’s names doesn’t change anything.”

Just then, the moon decides to break out from behind the heavy clouds. Moonlight streams in through the wide windows. Rose flinches and ducks out of the room.

“No, wait!” Luisa calls out and to her surprise, Rose pauses. “Come into the light.”

Rose growls (and Luisa’s heart rate skyrockets) before she says, “You’re being very pushy for a guest.”

“Last request of the night. I promise. And then I won’t ask anything of you ever again.”

“Somehow I doubt that.” Maybe it’s Luisa’s sincerity, maybe it’s her lack of fear, but Rose grudgingly slides a foot into the light, followed by the rest of her.

Luisa’s gaze rises from a clawed paw up to a heavily muscled torso to broad shoulders up to fangs to curled horns. But Rose’s most striking features by far are her eyes, which are an arctic blue.

“Holy shit,” Luisa can’t help but breathe.

Rose retreats swiftly.

“No, don’t! It’s not what you think!” She shoots out from under her fort and climbs Rose like a tree, wrapping her arms around her thick neck. Rose’s arms automatically reach up to steady her, bridal style, as she starts to slip. “Oh my god, you are the most gorgeous lady I’ve ever seen in my life,” Luisa gushes.

“What.”

“Look at your stunning eyes! Look at your huge hands! Look at—”

“If you say anything about my teeth, I’m going to get upset.”

It’s too late.

“—your gleaming teeth!” Luisa finishes, pushing Rose’s lip up with a finger to marvel at her canines.

Rose drops her arms, but Luisa stays curled around her by sheer force of will alone. “I’m really not in the mood to prodded or poked at...ever. And if you ever come back or bring anyone with you to gawk at me, I’m going to eat you.” She snarls, lifting her lip to show her all those white glistening fangs.

Luisa, for the most part, is unfazed, except maybe for a flush starting to bloom on her cheeks. Rose glares at her for a full minute before Luisa says, “Out.”

“What?”

“You mean ‘eat me...out.’”

Rose pries Luisa off her (it takes a bit of work. Luisa may have trouble walking a half mile in mud but she’s got a grip like a spider monkey) and lays her on the couch.

“Is this the part where you ravish me?” Luisa asks, splaying out in what she hopes is a seductive pose (it’s not.)

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” Rose is more bewildered than angry at this point.

“A lot of things. It’ll take a long time to cover it all. But the _point_ is, you are unfairly attractive.”

Rose narrows her eyes. “Not in the mood to be made fun of either.”

“I’m not making fun of you!” Luisa insists. She clutches at one of Rose’s arms and puts her head in her elbow like she’s trying to get Rose to choke her. “I want you to crush my head like a melon.”

“That wasn’t an answer. Once again, what the _actual_ fuck is wrong with you? Are you ridiculously near-sighted or something?”

“I’ll have you know that my vision is perfect. And so are you.”

“You don’t know anything about me besides that I am literally a monster.”

“Exactly! Well, not the not knowing you part. I hope to get to know you better but I will of course respect your boundaries if this is something you’re not comfortable with.” Her face suddenly falls. “Unless you’re already taken?”

Rose is so taken aback she answers truthfully. “No.”

“You’re the monster girlfriend I’ve been looking for my whole life,” Luisa says, grinning widely. Rose is suddenly struck by how unbelievably _pretty_ she is. How did she not notice this before?

“Okay, but you don’t even know if I like women like that,” Rose says.

Luisa gives her a knowing smirk and raises an eyebrow. “Do you not?”

“No. I mean, yes? I do.”

“Well then, I guess the last question I need to ask is: are you attracted to me?”

Rose’s mouth has gone sawdust dry all of sudden. She clears her throat. “That’s really neither here nor there when we’re never going to see each other after tomorrow.”

Luisa pouts. Rose is in the process of losing her mind. It’s like some sort of switch has been flipped and now she finds everything she does wildly attractive. “That again,” Luisa says. “Well, will you at least promise me you’ll sleep on it and consider changing your mind? Because I’d really like to get to know you.”

Rose shrugs again. “I don’t understand why, but sure, why not?”

Luisa frowns. “Do you...not think you’re beautiful? Because not gonna lie, I was kinda surprised when you told me you were single. I figured you would’ve been snatched up by some other lucky girl...or guy, I guess. Not sure where your preferences lie but we can talk about that later.”

“Why?”

“I think it’s a show of trust more than anything, to share something that’s as private as sexual preference with a potential—”

“No, not that part. The first bit. You thought I would be in a relationship?”

“Well yeah. There’s a ton of people that are into monster fucking. Did you see _The Shape of Water_ or _Venom_? They both did very well at the box office because people are thirsty for monsters.”

“You’ve got to be kidding me.”

“No, it’s totally a thing. If my phone wasn’t dead I could look it up for you. Actually, do you have internet access out here? I’ll pull up the tumblr tag for monster fucking. It’s insane.”

“It is much too late to delve into this now. I am going to bed. I’ll see you tomorrow.” When Luisa’s face lights up, she adds, “That was not a decision on my part. We’ll see how the night goes.”

Luisa tilts her head. “I’m just going to be here sleeping. What else would I be doing?”

“I don’t know, but you seem like the type to have trouble follow you around.”

“That’s a gross overgeneralization!”

“Look, we’re having our first disagreement and we’re not even dating. Just one of many reasons why this would never work out.”

“Are you always such a pessimist?”

“Yes. Reason number two, actually.”

Luisa sighs. “I’m only asking you to consider not booting me out first thing in the morning and potentially getting to know each other better and if it doesn’t end up in a relationship then no big deal. No pressure. Just think about it, okay?”

“Well, in order to do that I need to not be here with you all night.”

Luisa gives her a cheeky grin. “I wouldn’t be opposed to that.”

“I’m not dealing with this right now. Good night.”

“Good night, Rose.”

The last Rose sees of her is Luisa burrowing into her fort.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger warning for a gay slur

Despite sleeping on a couch, Luisa is surprisingly well rested when she’s awoken the next day by a door slamming. She peeks out from under the comforter, her eyes bleary and her hair in disarray. The curtains have been drawn in front of the windows. She can see the sun trying its best to worm its way through the thick fabric but to no avail.

“Mistress Rose!” a distinctly male voice calls out, nearing the den. “How did you track all this mud through the hou—oh, hello.”

The man the voice belongs to is heavyset, bald with a grey beard. Seeing someone so normal in the daylight makes Luisa wonder if she imagined the whole encounter last night. Maybe Rose is just a regular woman during the day.

She squints at the man, poking a hand out from the covers to rub her eyes. “Hi.”

“Forgive my rudeness, but who are you?”

“I’m Luisa,” she says, like that clears everything up. It’s still a little too early for her to remember why this stranger might be shocked by her sleeping here.

The man stares at her. After a second, he pulls himself together and says briskly, “Good morning, Miss Luisa. I’m Joey, Mistress Rose’s housekeeper. Have you had anything to eat?”

Luisa thinks this is a rather silly question seeing as she’s very obviously just woken up. “No.”

“In that case, I’ll get started on breakfast. Do you have a preference? We’ve got eggs, pancakes, bacon, sausages, hash browns, hot and cold cereal, toast with a number of preservatives or deli meats and cheeses...anything strike your fancy?”

“That’s okay. I can just get my own cereal.”

“Would you like to wash up beforehand?” he asks, giving the muddy footprints a pointed stare.

“Oh...yeah. That would be good,” Luisa says, ducking her head. “I’m sorry about that.”

“It’s quite alright. I’ve had to take care of worse things in Mistress Rose’s employ.”

Joey hands her a towel to wipe her feet before he leads her to a full bathroom, giving her another towel and a set of faded jeans and a sequined t-shirt that look like they just came out of the 2000s.

“My apologies, Miss, but this is all we have that might fit you. There hasn’t really been a need for women’s clothes this small since…” He trails off.

When Luisa gives him a questioning look, he says, “Never mind that. Pretend I didn’t say anything. The breakfast nook is down the hall to your right. I’ll have a selection of cereals out for you when you’re ready.”

 

When Luisa wanders into the breakfast nook, the pant legs dragging on the floor, her hair still wet, she finds Joey in an apron sliding pancakes out of a skillet on a plate. “Mistress Rose will be down for breakfast momentarily.”

Luisa nods and sits at the table, pulling the Cocoa Puffs toward her.

“Good morning,” Joey says when Rose enters the kitchen.

Luisa feels a thrill run through her, seeing Rose in the daylight. She is beyond relieved that last night wasn’t all a hallucination. She takes a moment to admire her fine, short auburn fur. The red is especially vibrant in the morning light.

“Morning, Joey,” Rose responds, taking out a carton of orange juice from the fridge and pouring herself a glass. She frowns when she sets eyes on Luisa. “You’re still here. You’re wearing my old clothes?”

Joey whacks her with an oven mitt.

“What?”

“Is that any way to treat a guest? You were raised better than that.”

Rose rolls her eyes. “Sure, a guest. Like she didn’t just walk on in last night like she owned the place.”

“The door was unlocked! I thought it was abandoned!”

“See? And now she’s insulting my home. If she doesn’t have to play by the rules, neither do I.”

“I’m still here, you know,” Luisa says.

“Unfortunately.”

Joey clucks. “There’s still no need to be so boorish.”

Luisa sighs. “So I suppose you’ve made up your mind, then?”

“Yes.”

“Did my winning personality persuade you?” Luisa smiles hopefully.

“No.”

Luisa visibly deflates. Rose feels a tiny twinge of guilt being the reason why she looks so dejected, but saying yes will lead to even more hurt feelings in the long run.

“Joey, would you mind towing Luisa’s car to a mechanic after she’s done eating? I’ll cover any costs.”

“Of course, Mistress Rose.”

 

When Luisa gets everything in order, ready to leave, she stops at the front doors. Rose is halfway up the staircase when Luisa uncertainly calls out, “Goodbye.”

Rose pauses for a split second and says, “Goodbye, Luisa.”

…

“I was wondering whose car this was on my way in today,” Joey says when his truck slows next to Luisa’s car.

“Yeah.” Luisa sighs, still petulant Rose turned her down. “My car suddenly just died out of nowhere. It’s only a few years old too.”

“Have you had any issues with this car before yesterday?”

“No, which is why it’s so weird.”

“Interesting,” Joey says in this odd thoughtful tone before he hops out of the truck. He pops the hood and fiddles around for a bit before he says, “It doesn’t look like anything’s wrong to me. Try starting it.”

The engine refuses to start when she turns the keys in the ignition.

“Huh,” Joey says before he hitches her car to his truck.

Luisa gives him the address of a mechanic she knows in Cocoa Beach.

Joey whistles when he hears that. “You’re a long way from home. How’d you end up all the way out here, anyway?” he asks when they turn onto a proper paved road.

After she recounts her story, he nods. “That’s a supreme stroke of bad luck.”

“Yeah, but I got to meet Rose out of it, at least.”

He glances over at her. “And you’re not...scared of her.” It’s almost a question.

“No, of course not. I want to _date_ her.”

“Interesting,” Joey says again.

“Why’s that?”

He contemplates her question for a while before he says, “Mistress Rose is...a recluse. She’s isolated. Her appearance and prickly demeanor make it difficult for her to participate in day-to-day life with the outside world. Which is just as well, since she, in her words, ‘hates people.’ It’s surprising that you not only showed up out of the blue, the first visitor we’ve had in years, but you don’t fear her. It seems a bit like destiny.”

“Rose mentioned that she’d been burned before. Something about a fairy. What does that mean?”

Joey suddenly gets a terrible coughing fit. When he recovers, he says, “It’s not really my business to say.”

“Hmm,” Luisa says, but she doesn’t push it.

 

When they pull into the garage, it takes the mechanic all of two seconds to turn the keys in the ignition before her car purrs to life.

“Piece of shit,” Luisa mutters, tapping the bumper with a foot.

The mechanic shrugs and is nice enough not to charge them anything for the preliminary inspection.

“So I guess this is goodbye,” Luisa says, folding her arms and leaning against her car.

Joey frowns before he says, hesitantly, “Miss Luisa, if it’s not too forward of me, would you consider coming back to visit Mistress Rose on a recurring basis?”

She furrows her brow. “Rose made it pretty clear she never wants to see me ever again.”

“I believe she’s intimidated. She’s been stuck in the same pattern for so long, change is startling. But give her a week or so to get used to your presence and she’ll warm right up to you.”

“Why though? Why go against her express wishes?”

“Well.” Joey fiddles with the buttons on his suit jacket. “I think she could use a new friend, even though she might think that she’s perfectly fine as is.”

“Are you sure? I wouldn’t want to upset her.” But Luisa can’t help the note of hope that creeps into her voice.

“Quite sure. I’ve known Mistress Rose since she was a little girl.”

Luisa gives him a long stare before she nods. “Okay. I’m free after 11am on Fridays. Do you guys have anything as pedestrian as an address or how am I going to find my way back?”

He sighs before he scribbles coordinates and his cell on a scrap of paper.

“Seriously?”

“Mistress Rose is very particular about her privacy. I don’t need to warn you to only come alone?”

“No,” Luisa says, taking a few seconds to memorize the numbers and then sticking the paper in her mouth, just to be extra. She makes a face as she chews and swallows. “I’m sure Rose will be thrilled enough to learn that I’ve disregarded her request. I don’t want to know what will happen if I was stupid enough to bring a friend.”

“I’m glad we understand each other then. As for the reason for your sudden reappearance, leave that to me.”

…

Rose’s days go back to the same old routine after the shock of Luisa showing up wears off. She wakes up at daybreak and goes for a run, which mostly consists of loping through the swamp. If she’s feeling petty, she’ll leave tracks for the nearest country club (a cool twenty miles away) to lose their shit over.

After a quick shower, she’ll power up her tablet and get started on whatever her newest client needs her to work on. She’s a graphic designer, the perfect job to marry her love of drawing with her love of solitude. The only downside is when she needs to clarify certain things with the management. They insist on having these ridiculous conference calls when she insists a group chat would work just as well.

Most of them are used to her guttural voice, but there’s this one asshole named Marco who’s convinced that she must have some terrible deformity (which isn’t false, per se) and using a voice distorter to hide her identity. Every conversation will start, without fail, with him calling her Sin Rostro and trying to goad her into turning on the video chat function.

On weekdays, Joey comes by at eight to do some light housekeeping, general maintenance, and run errands for her. Sometimes he’ll make breakfast if Rose has gotten distracted by work and hasn’t eaten yet. It’s not that Rose isn’t capable of living on her own, but it’s a big house and she doesn’t necessarily have enough time to get everything done on her own. It’s also nice not to be alone all the time, but she’ll never tell him that. She thinks maybe he already knows.

Joey leaves at four. If Rose finds that she’s forgotten to ask him to pick something up, she’ll bundle up and go into town herself. She can do it, but she doesn’t enjoy it. Especially in Florida, known for its mild winters, it’s odd to see a six-foot figure in a heavy trench coat, ill-fitting boots, a wide-brimmed hat, and a veil (but then again, it’s Florida, and the locals are largely unfazed by strange behavior.) If it’s manageable in winter, the humidity makes it hell in the summer. On top of that, there have been several instances of children and a few adults of shrieking “I’ve found you, Carmen Sandiego!” at her. So she usually tries to limit these outings.

On Sundays, Rose attends a book club. It’s made up of a group of kindly but moderately savage older ladies and her best friend, Jane Ramos. Jane never does the reading, but she’s a lawyer, and is well used to bluffing her way through anything until she finds something to stand on. Once Rose had asked her why she even bothered showing up if she wasn’t going to read the book. Instead of taking offense, Jane had nudged her and said, “Ninety percent is because drinking at book club is a lot less sad than drinking by myself. The other ten percent is that it’s the only time I get to see you, loser.”

She and Jane have been friends since high school, way way before her unfortunate accident. As for the other women, Rose spends most of her time at book club slouched in her seat with her XXL hoodie up, even though they’ve grown used to her unorthodox appearance, especially after she gave them a vague explanation, something about hypertrichosis.

This is her life. She is safe and comfortable and relatively independent. If there’s more to life, she doesn’t want to know about it. She knows whatever she’s lacking will never be in her reach.

…

Luisa fills her days with activity as well. She actually lives and works at an inn called the Longbourne. She feels at peace here for the most part. Sometimes the nostalgia creeps up on her. And she thinks, _it’s too quiet here_. Sometimes she misses the hustle of Miami, the strong Cuban influence, the bright strip on a balmy, cloudless night. But it’s always pretty short-lived. She’ll go out to the lagoon and watch the bioluminescent plankton and think of her mother. That always grounds her.

The work she does isn’t too bad either. It’s very different from being an obgyn or a hotel shareholder, that’s for sure. There are days where she just wants to float face down for a few hours in the water, mostly when there are angry, lobster-red tourists that yell at her over things she has no control over. But those are far and few in between. The inn isn’t very well known. Otherwise, she sorts the mail, answers general questions, takes phone calls.

The days are all the same, but not in a bad way. She thinks she’d be very content if the rest of her life was like this: just drifting her way through years instead of the constant water-treading she’s had to endure before.

She’s daydreaming one day, doodling mindlessly on a pad of post-its, when the bell rings. “Good morning. How can I help you?” she says automatically, looking up with a smile. Her smile becomes forced when she sees who it is.

“Hello yourself, beautiful,” Juicy Jordan says, looming into her personal space over the counter.

“Hi Juicy. Is there anything I can help you with today?”

_Please don’t ask me out again. Please please please._

“Yes, actually. You can have the honor of coming to dinner with me tonight. I’ve heard great things about this steakhouse down the way that marinated all their cuts in red wine.”

“Oh, that’s very nice of you, Juicy, but I’d rather not.”

Juicy scowls and leans even further over her. Luisa shrinks back. “Why not?”

“I don’t drink.”

She snorts. “Don’t be stupid, we’re not going to be drinking anything, although they’ve got a cabernet sauvignon that’s to die for. The meat’s just going to be soaked in it, that’s all.”

Luisa’s mouth is starting to water. She stands suddenly. “I’m sorry, but I can’t drink. I’ve been sober for nearly three years now.”

Usually at this point, most people apologize and back off. Juicy does not. She is nothing if not tenacious. “Come on, you’re so tense. Let loose once in a while.” She grabs one of Luisa’s hands and starts squeezing it rhymically. Luisa stares at it. Is this supposed to be some sort of sensual hand massage?

She takes her hand back and slaps the “back in five” minutes placard on the counter. She needs some air. She needs to get away from this woman. “Juicy, that’s a very sweet offer, but I’ve worked very hard to get to where I am now, and I don’t want to ruin that. Sorry. Excuse me, I forgot something in my cabin.” And she all but runs away from her.

She just wants Juicy to leave the Longbourne. Every year for three months, she comes to the Longbourne to hunt anything and everything: deer, squirrel, otter, bobcat. You name it, she hunts it. Luisa doesn’t understand hunting and quite honestly, the incredibly detailed stories that Juicy insists on reenacting in the lobby “for the entertainment of the other guests” makes her very uncomfortable. But on top of that, Juicy (which isn’t even her real name. Her driver’s license lists her full name as Prudence Winifred Jordan, considering which Luisa can understand why she’d go by Juicy) has taken an unfortunate interest in Luisa, seeing how they’re “the only two dykes under sixty around here.”

Luisa hasn’t ever been ashamed of her sexuality, but she kind of wishes she’d been a little more discreet about it since Juicy can’t seem to take no for an answer and Luisa doesn’t have it in her to be cruel, especially since Juicy is such a good customer and the elderly couple that run the Longbourne are desperate for any new customers since they’re getting beaten out by the chain motels, lodges, and airbnbs.

She shuts the door to her cabin and leans against it, sinking down to sit against it. _I’m happy here_ , she repeats to herself. The truth is it’s starting to feel a little too claustrophobic. Maybe she’s only holding onto the last dregs of her mother’s memory. The only friends she makes are people who spend a few weeks, months if she’s lucky, before moving on.

But she’d still rather stay here than be dragged back into the murders and drama in Miami. She’s just looking for something to call home, something she can hold onto, something that she can make hers. And maybe that’s not here.

…

Despite Joey’s promise to Luisa, he’s apprehensive about broaching the topic with Rose. She’s never had a temper exactly, but being the sole focus of her disapproval has never been pleasant, and that was before her hands grew to the size of cast-iron pans.

Her stepmother, Elena, had always fondly said that Rose would’ve been a great enforcer for a mob boss, which had struck him as a very odd compliment.

Regardless, he has nothing to fear by bringing up something that will only help Rose in the long run, right? Now how to convince her of that...

He clears his throat loudly as he sweeps the kitchen. Rose, stretched out on the floor of the sunroom, kicking her legs lazily in the air while she squints at her sketchpad through her glasses, ignores him.

He clears his throat again.

She looks over her shoulder at him, her huge, industrial-sized glasses slipping down her nose. “Are you okay, Joey? Do you need a cough drop?”

“No, I’m fine. Actually, I wanted to talk to you.”

She sits up. “What is it?”

His knuckles whiten around the broom. “Mistress, I’ve served you faithfully for a very long time and I…”

He falters when her eyes widen. “Is this your resignation? Because I refuse to accept it. What do you want? A 50% raise? Done.”

“As appreciated as that is, that’s not what I was getting at. The fact is I’m getting old and in order to keep things running, I need some help.”

“Okay, so I’ll make a chore chart,” Rose says. “What don’t you want to do anymore? Clean out the gutters? I can do that. What else?”

He sucks his lips in before he says, “Well, you’re closer but not quite there yet. As thoughtful as that is, the upkeep of the house is a full-time job. And you’ve already got one of those. And you can’t cut your hours or quit your job because of me. How will you survive in this capitalist wasteland? What I’m proposing is…” He pauses here for a second before blurting out the rest of the words in a rush. “Having someone come over maybe once a week or so just to help me out.”

Rose immediately tenses. “Absolutely not,” she says in a normal tone, but there’s a certain timbre in her voice that belies her displeasure and makes the overhead rafters shake. He can feel his teeth rattling. “Joey, you know why that’s a bad idea.”

“I know, I know. But look at this place, Mistress. It’s falling apart. I haven’t been able to properly tend to the roof in years. All I’ve been doing is patching things up, not fixing them. One of these days the whole thing’s going to collapse.”

She sighs. “Look, we can keep doing what we’ve been doing for the past few years. If you need to call a contractor or something, fine. I’m willing to lay low while they’re here. But once a week for the rest of the foreseeable future? Joey, this is my home. This is the only place where I don’t have to hide. You can’t ask me to give that up.”

“I understand. I’m not asking you to.”

“I don’t see how those can be mutually inclusive.”

“What if it’s someone who isn’t scared of you?”

“Who are you possibly talking—” She freezes as realization dawns on her. “No. No way.”

“Why not?”

“Come on, Joey. I can’t believe you’re actually thinking of her. After I told her she could never come back. First of all, that would totally ruin my reputation.”

He raises his eyebrows. “What reputation? Being a sinister monster?”

“Yes!”

“I don’t know if this is news to you, but she knows. And she’s into that.”

She groans. “Don’t remind me.”

“Of what? That she’s the first woman, present company excluded, that’s stepped in this house in nearly a decade? That she’s interested in you? That she could possibly be the one to break the—”

She cuts him off with a low growl. “Don’t say it.”

“Why not?” He throws his arms up. The broom clatters to the floor, making Rose flinch. “Do you want to be like this for the rest of your life? Are you happy like this? I’ve watched you grow up Rosie, I know you’re capable of falling in love and having someone love you in return if you’d just stop running away everytime you got a chance!”

She stands abruptly, one unnaturally fluid, not-quite-human motion. “That’s enough,” she says softly, but it resonates. He is suddenly struck with a deep, primitive fear.

As she starts to slink away, the terror ebbs enough that he manages to grit out, “What are you so afraid of?”

She sighs and rests her forehead against a doorway. “As much as I love you Joey, you really shouldn’t get into the habit of poking the beast.”

“I’m pretty sure it’s ‘don’t poke the bear.’”

“Yeah, whatever. I’m not a bear. I’m a beast.”

“Come on, she fell into your lap.” When Rose stares at him dubiously, he adds, “Figuratively. Although I’m sure she’d jump at the chance to do so literally. When are you going to get another chance like this?”

“Probably never,” Rose mutters grudgingly.

“So...?”

“I don’t want…” She frowns. Joey doesn’t interrupt her. She’s got that look that means she’s figuring out how to word something. It had surprised him and yet, not at all, that he could still read her as well as ever even with all the fur and fangs in the way. “This isn’t fair to her.”

Whatever he thought she was going to say, it wasn’t that. “What do you mean?”

“If she falls in love with me, me me, not because of her lust for all of this,” she says, gesturing to herself up and down. “And that’s a big if in itself. _If_ she does, I want her to do it on her own, organically, not because of some curse that she thinks she has to break.”

“Isn’t that written into the curse anyway?”

“I don’t know! It’s not like that fairy gave me a written contract of all the terms and conditions or anything. What if, I don’t know, the curse breaks and Luisa realizes that I’m not what she wants? What happens when this person that I’ve fallen in love with, that’s freed me from forced isolation, walks away? What do I do then?”

Joey wants to hug her right then, but he also doesn’t want to be mauled. So he keeps his distance when he says, “I can’t guarantee that. But wouldn’t it be worth it to go back to being human?”

She shakes herself, a full body shudder. “No. I’d rather be like this forever than _use_ someone like that.”

He feels his chest swell with pride for her. “And that fairy had the gall to say you were heartless.”

“Ha,” she says, baring her teeth. “Maybe she was more right than wrong.”

She leaves the kitchen, probably to find somewhere private to brood.

“Miss Luisa’s coming on Friday!” he calls after her.

She grunts in response.

…

Rose tells herself that none of this matters. Luisa will bore of her once she realizes what Rose is actually like and then she’ll go away and everything will go back to normal. Simple. But this does not entirely extinguish the stubborn glimmer of hope in the pit of her stomach.

She is restless, unable to sit still for more than fifteen minutes, as Friday inches closer. Her clients are absolutely outraged. Usually she can churn out exactly what they want well within their time limitations. This is the first time she’s even gotten close to broaching their deadlines. She ignores them. There are more important matters at stake.

“If you’re so anxious,” Joey says to her on Wednesday as she paces back and forth in the backyard, “you could help me clean up a bit. God knows the manor is a mess.”

“I’m not anxious. Besides, I thought the point of having Luisa here was that she could help you,” she grouses, but she picks up a wet sheet from the basket to throw over the clothesline anyway.

“Well yes, but it won’t do to have her walk into a total pigsty.”

“What’s wrong with the way things are? She’s already been here. She knows how I live. So it’s a little dusty. Big deal.”

Joey sighs. “It’s the principle of the matter.”

They work in silence for a few minutes.

“So, how are you if not anxious? Apprehensive? Excited for her arrival?”

“None of those,” she snaps. “She’s just another woman. There’s nothing special about her.”

Joey turns away under the pretense of grabbing more clothespins so she can’t see him smile.

 

Despite her complaints, Friday morning finds Rose frantically raking several years’ worth of fallen leaves off what passes for the front yard.

“Look at you! So diligent!” Joey says when he pulls up in his truck.

Rose hardly pauses in her raking to snarl wordlessly at him. But there’s no bite behind it and they both know it.

“Do you want a bag or something?”

“There’s no time! When is she supposed to get here?”

Joey checks his phone. “Not until after noon. You’ve got plenty of time.”

“No I don’t!”

He raises his eyebrows but heads inside to grab her some bags as Rose doubles her efforts.

For someone who is seemingly apathetic about how other people perceive her home, Rose has managed to clean the place up quite nicely, Joey thinks. It’s not perfect (some of the plaster on the corners of walls have been nicked from her overzealous vacuuming) but it’s a lot better than it was earlier in the week.

“If I’d known all it took to get you to clean up after yourself was a visitor, I would’ve wrangled someone to come by ages ago.”

“This doesn’t mean anything,” Rose mutters as she scrubs furiously at grime on the stove.

 

At noon, she suddenly drops everything and retreats to her room.

His phone dings. “Miss Luisa will be here at one!” he calls up the stairs.

“Fine!” she yells back.

“Do you want to greet her at the gate with me?”

“No!”

 

But she skulks downstairs a quarter to anyway, peeking through the heavy drapes every few minutes between bouts of pacing. And she quite literally jumps when he announces, “Ah, there she is now.”

Sure enough, Luisa’s happy little Volvo is trundling up the path. Joey opens the front doors and strides down to the gate, Rose hot on his heels.

“Be nice,” he murmurs to her.

She scoffs. “I’m always nice.”

He looks at her, his expression deadpan, until she sighs and says, “I’ll work on it.”

“Even if she doesn’t break the curse—” Rose shushes him, but he presses on. “—you could be friends.”

“I’ve got plenty of friends,” Rose says, sulky.

Joey raises his eyebrows. “Yeah? Who?”

“Jane...and you, I guess.”

“As honored as I am to know that I made it to your vast list of friends, I really don’t think having another is going to hurt.”

They watch Luisa get out of her car and wave at them, before promptly tripping over something and landing on her face. “I’m okay!”

Rose frowns. “No promises.”


	3. Chapter 3

For all her manic energy anticipating Luisa’s arrival, now that she’s actually here, Rose becomes aloof and indifferent. After a brusque greeting, she retreats upstairs.

Luisa watches her disappear, disappointment written all over her face. “I take it she wasn’t too delighted about hearing that I’d be by, huh?”

“Well...she was not unhappy,” Joey says.

“She doesn’t seem ‘not unhappy’ right now.”

“Give her some time. It’s been a while since she’s had anyone but me for company. She’s just nervous.”

Luisa takes a breath and puts on a smile. “Alright, well, put me to work. You said Rose is expecting me to pull my weight. So what do you need me to do?”

He chuckles. “Oh, don’t worry about that. Make yourself at home.”

“What do you mean?”

Joey lowers his voice. “So I might’ve pulled the ‘I’m getting old and need help’ card to play on Mistress Rose’s tender sensibilities. Yes, the manor needs a lot of work, but I’m more than able to take care of things on my own. You’re our guest. Relax.”

“Sneaky. I didn’t know you had it in you. But regardless, I wouldn’t want Rose to catch you in your lie. And I’m going to be very bored if I’m just hanging out alone all afternoon. And when I’m bored, trouble tends to find me. So anything in particular you need a hand with?”

“No no. Don’t worry about it. If Mistress Rose comes downstairs, just pretend to be dusting.” He grabs a feather duster and hands it to her. “Give me a shout if you need anything.”

 

Within a few hours (and no sign of Rose), Luisa has thoroughly explored the lower levels of the house, pretending to dust the whole time. Joey wasn’t lying. The outside could use some work, but the interior has been very well-kept, even if there are the tell-tale signs of shabbiness starting to grow in the corners. The oddest thing about the house, though, is there are no photos or portraits. It gives everything a very impersonal touch. It makes Luisa feel a little like she’s wandering through a model home.

She finds Joey under the sink in kitchen.

“Hello, Miss Luisa,” he says, sitting up and wiping his hands on a rag. “How are you finding everything?”

“Good, thank you. You’ve done a great job at maintaining the hardwood floors. I know the humidity wreaks havoc on them.”

He beams. “Thank you. I do try my best. Are you looking for something?”

She sighs. “No, but I’m itching to go upstairs and find Rose, even though,” she says when Joey’s face shifts to pure alarm, “I know that’s a bad idea.”

“Think of her as a cat you’d like to befriend. She’s skittish. She has to get used to your presence and feel safe before she’ll come out to say hi.”

“I’m not a cat!” Rose shouts from upstairs.

“See? She’s not being rude, she’s just shy.”

“Okay,” Luisa says, nodding. “I’ll give her space. In the meantime though, if you don’t give me something to do besides dusting, I can’t guarantee that I won’t find my way upstairs anyway with some tuna.”

Joey raises his eyebrows. “Why would anyone ever bring tuna upstairs?”

“That’s how _I_ make friends with cats.”

He sighs. “Okay, why don’t you take a walk around the grounds? See if something tickles your fancy. There are tools in the garden shed if you find something to do, if only to keep you from getting mauled.”

Luisa’s eyes light up. “She’s mauled people?”

“No!” Rose chimes in indignantly.

“Go on. Shoo,” Joey says, pushing her outside.

 

Later, Joey finds her in the garden. “I’m leaving for the day in an hour or two, Miss Luisa. Did you want something to eat before I do?”

“Oh no, that’s okay. I’ll just pick something up on my way home.” She looks up at him. “I forgot to ask you. Do I just leave whenever I want? Or do I leave when you do? How is this going to work?”

“I suppose it would be best if we left together this time, just so Mistress Rose can have a bit of a breather. Reorient herself again.” His expression turns stricken. “I mean, I’m assuming that you’d want to come back but I would completely understand if this wasn’t in your best interests. I know it wasn’t terribly exciting.”

“Don’t be silly. Of course I’m coming back. I can be patient. Not to mention the state of this garden is absolutely appalling and I’ll have to fix it myself, apparently.” He starts to say something, probably to correct her, but she silences him with a look. “It’ll make me feel useful.”

He shrugs instead. “Okay, Miss Luisa. If you insist.”

She gets up and brushes the worst of the dirt off her hands. “So what did you have in mind for dinner? Because let me tell you, I make a mean box of mac and cheese.”

 

Rose does not show up for dinner: broiled salmon with mashed potatoes and broccoli. Joey puts a plate in the fridge for her. Luisa is disappointed but she does trade stories with Joey, who turns out used to be in the air force before he switched to private security and somehow got roped into being a butler of sorts for Rose’s family and fell in love with it. In turn, Luisa tells him about how one time she was lying on the beach in San Diego and a seal came up and started sunning itself right next to her, and how she got an easy $20 out of her brother because the relationship part of his astrology chart is a mess, and that one time she lost her dream job because she accidentally artificially inseminated a lady.

“I mean, not to be dramatic or anything.”

Joey pauses in spooning more mashed potatoes onto his plate. “Miss Luisa, you realize that your car broke down next to a manor in the middle of nowhere and you’re waiting for the mistress of the house to stop being so scared and show her face so you can try your hand at wooing her?”

“Damn, that does put things in perspective, doesn’t it?”

“I wish I could say it’s the strangest thing that’s happened in my life, but I’d be lying.”

 

At four, they walk out to their cars. Luisa thinks she sees a curtain flutter from the second story but she can’t be sure.

“Same time next week?” Luisa asks.

“If that works for you.”

“Yeah, of course.”

She is crestfallen that she only saw Rose once, but she is nothing if not determined to wait until Rose is comfortable around her before she turns up the patented Alver charm. She’ll win her over sooner or later. It doesn’t necessarily have to be romantic. Luisa thinks she’ll be satisfied when she gets Rose to smile at her for the first time.

…

Unfortunately next week is pretty much a repeat performance. Luisa spends all her time in the garden, weeding and planting stakes so the peas will have something to climb. Joey gives her a small stipend and access to his truck for whatever she needs to get from the store, which turns out to be a mistake. She comes back with a truckload full of sweet potato, rosemary, pepper, oregano, eggplant, cherry tomato, and mint seedlings.

“Miss Luisa, we don’t have room for all these!” Joey tells her as she sets the wheelbarrow full of seedlings down next to the garden.

“Time for a bigger garden,” Luisa says cheerfully, pulling down a pair of safety goggles over her eyes before she picks up a sledgehammer and brings it down on one of the sides of the small garden border. The wood, worn away from years of constant moisture and baking sun, splinters easily.

Rose is curious enough to open a window and poke her head out. “What’s all this racket?”

“Hi Rose!” Luisa waves. “I’m expanding your garden!”

“Why?”

“Why not? You know fresh herbs always taste better.”

“You could’ve just grown them on the windowsill.”

“What about the eggplants?”

“Why would anyone want to eat eggplant?”

Luisa drops the sledgehammer. “Are you serious?” She looks over at Joey. “Is she serious?”

He shrugs. “What do you even do with it?”

“That settles it.” She brings the sledgehammer up and starts shattering the border with a ferocity that was lacking before. “I’m going. To blow. Your. Mind. With the. Culinary. Uses. Of this. Absolute. Wonder. Of a. Vegetable,” she says, punctuating every word with an impact.

It is disconcerting how attractive Rose finds this.

Luisa pauses to kick away the worst of the pieces before she leans on the sledgehammer and narrows her eyes, cutting her gaze between both of them. “I can barely cook but like the one thing I can do well is an eggplant parmesan. Just you wait. I will personally learn how to make anything and everything eggplant to make you believers.”

“Hmph. Do what you want,” Rose says, closing the window.

Well, it’s not the exact response Luisa was looking for, but it only fuels her determination to win Rose over. Maybe that’s why she’s so grumpy? She’d be just as sullen if she never knew the wonders of grilled eggplant.

…

Luisa hopes to lure Rose out little by little with her work in the garden over the next few weeks, but other than that one time, Rose seems utterly uninterested in her.

“It’s not what I was expecting,” Joey admits when Luisa asks him about it. “I thought she’d be downstairs while you were here by now, even if she ignored you most of the time.”

“Thanks,” Luisa says flatly.

“I’ll have a word with her.”

“Don’t push her. She’ll come out when she’s ready.”

“I think you’re underestimating her sense of spite. She’ll stay up there forever if she thinks it’ll make you leave.”

Luisa frowns. “Is she really that upset by me? Maybe I should leave then.”

“She’s not upset. She’s just being stubborn. I really think having you here is good for her. She just has to see it too.”

“Do you really think me being here will help her?”

He nods furiously. “Without a doubt. Please don’t go.”

She raises an eyebrow. “Okay. If you really think so.”

 

After she leaves, Joey marches upstairs and finds Rose curled up on the window seat overlooking the garden, fervently erasing something on her sketchpad. “Would it kill you to acknowledge Luisa’s presence? She’s been here a month.”

“Bitch, it might.”

“Sarcasm is unbecoming on you.”

“Good.”

“Why are you so set on driving her away? You said yourself this was probably your only chance.”

“I don’t want her pity.”

“She doesn’t pity you.”

“She doesn’t know me.”

“And whose fault is that? She’s trying to! Now you need to make an effort on your part.”

“You can’t make me.”

“No, but I can agree to stop buying you Trader Joe’s special peanut butter.”

Rose narrows her eyes. “You wouldn’t dare.”

Joey doesn’t waver. “Try me.”

Rose throws her sketchpad down on the floor in protest. “This is blackmail!”

“To make you play nice with a girl your own age? Hardly. I’m literally just asking you not to hide away up here every time she comes over.”

“Fine.” Rose pouts. “But I don’t have to like it!”

“That’s fine by me. Just give her a chance. I think she’ll surprise you.” He turns to head back downstairs. “I’m going to pick up groceries. Do you want anything?”

“I deserve two jars of the peanut butter!”

Joey rolls his eyes.

…

“So I met someone,” Luisa says by way of greeting when she bursts into Raf’s office.

“Luisa!” he says, sitting up and taking his feet off his desk. “Why don’t you ever knock?”

She blows a raspberry. “It’s not like you were actually doing anything important. Our calendars are synced. I knew you were free right now. You were probably just playing Candy Crush.”

“Nuh-uh.”

“Words with Friends?”

He doesn’t say anything.

“Aha.” She slings herself into the chair in front of his desk. “So...this is the part where you ask a bunch of questions about my new love interest.”

He sighs. “Honestly the only thing that comes to mind is uh-oh.”

She scowls. “You should be talking. You don’t even know anything about her!”

“You didn’t know anything about Selena either, but that didn’t stop you from saying that we’d break up.”

“Thanks for the $20, by the way.”

“Don’t remind me. But see, this is what I mean. How am I supposed to get excited about your relationships when every time _I_ meet someone, you always shoot me down?”

“I do not. I’m just pointing out that you would meet the right person if you stopped playing up the rich playboy look.” She pauses. “Venus is in transit. It’d be good if you met someone now.”

“Again with the astrology?”

“I haven’t been wrong yet.”

“Uh yeah, you have. Remember Allison?”

“I meant about you. Your chart is super obvious. Mine is a little more tricky.”

Rafael leans back in his chair and sighs. “Okay, let’s hear it.”

“First of all, as a pisces, you wouldn’t believe what I have to—”

He shakes his head. “No. Tell me about her.”

“Oh. Well,” she pauses to do a little wiggle in her seat. “Her name is Rose. She’s shy. A little gruff, honestly, but I have it on good authority that she’ll warm up to me in no time. And if she doesn’t, then I’ll just turn up the charm. It’s never failed me yet.”

“Ugh.”

“You’re just jealous that you haven’t refined your own charm to my level.”

“You really don’t need to remind me about that. I’ll never forgive you for stealing Heather from me.”

Luisa snickers. “Liar. You were too scared to talk to her anyway.”

“You knew I liked her!”

“What was I supposed to do when she kissed me first? Push her away and say, ‘hey this is great and everything, but how about you go make out with my loser brother?’”

“Yes!”

Luisa shrugs. “She wasn’t interested in you. And it’s not like anything happened besides that kiss. I said I wasn’t comfortable and she moved on.”

“You could’ve at least put in a good word for me.”

“Hate to break it to you, but she was hella gay. No straight girl uses her tongue—”

“Oh my god, stop,” he says, covering his face with his hands. “Go back to Rose.”

“She’s got these really intense blue eyes you could just get lost in. And she’s really good at drawing. You wouldn’t think so because she’s got huge hands, but she holds styluses and pencils so gently. It’s such a turn on.” She frowns. “I haven’t really seen that much of her.”

“Why?”

She shrugs. “She isn’t usually around when I am.”

“What? Hold on, back up. Is she not interested in you?”

Luisa resents the note of glee that laces his voice. “It’s complicated.”

“Start at the beginning.”

Luisa gives him a short version of events, dancing around the part about Rose’s condition. It’s not applicable and Rafael always did have a sense of curiosity that never failed to get him into trouble. Things are tense enough with Rose as is, she doesn’t want her brother poking around to get a visual of “the monster.”

He frowns when she finishes. “I don’t think she likes you. I don’t know if you should keep visiting her.”

“But Joey—”

“Isn’t her. It’s like a blind date, right? Even if your friends think you’ll hit it off, at the end of the night, if she doesn’t like you, she doesn’t like you.”

“Okay.” She sighs. “I’ll give it a few more weeks. If there’s no improvement, I’ll say goodbye.”

“Plenty of other fish in the sea, especially as a pisces.”

“Ha ha.”

“I’m hilarious and you know it.”

...

But true to her word, Rose is downstairs when Luisa arrives next week. Rose absolutely does not notice how Luisa smiles with her whole face, from the creases at the corners of her eyes to her cheekbones to the lines around her mouth.

“Hi Rose!”

Rose sticks a spoonful of peanut butter in her mouth and grunts, hunching over the jar.

“How’s your week been?”

“Meh.” She shrugs.

Behind Luisa, Joey is mouthing “Be nice!” and holding the other jar of peanut butter threateningly over the trash can.

Rose swallows. “I mean, fine. Nothing out of the ordinary happened.” She grits her teeth before she adds, ”What about you?”

Luisa launches into a story full of twists and turns about an escaped herd of goats that somehow wandered onto the inn’s property and then promptly started destroying _everything_.

“I didn’t even know goats could look so malevolent but stare one down with its fiendish, rectangular-pupiled gaze and you’ll know better.”

“Oh.” Rose blinks.

Joey makes a go on motion with his hands.

Rose isn’t sure what else to say. She doesn’t have any personal experience with goats. She eats another spoonful of peanut butter, effectively gluing her mouth shut, at least for the next few seconds.

Luisa looks between the two of them. Rose can see the question on her lips but she seems to decide to let it lie. She fills up her water bottle before she gives them both a little wave, donning her cowboy hat and stepping outside to continue working on the garden.

Rose resists the urge to turn and stare after her. When did stetsons become so alluring?

“Disappointing,” Joey tells her.

“Which part?”

“You could’ve made more of an effort.”

“What did you expect me to say? I don’t know anything about goats. You can’t take away my peanut butter because of that!”

“No, but I expect you to keep working at it. She’s doing good work outside. The least you can do is not be quietly hostile.”

“I’m not!”

“Are you secretly not trying to get rid of her so you can wallow in your self-pity and loneliness?”

Rose crosses her arms. “I don’t wallow.”

Joey humphs.

 

Rose does try though. She doesn’t go upstairs once while Luisa is there, which is hard when Luisa stays longer and longer with each passing week. She doesn’t get a ton of work done either. It’s hard to focus when she catches sight of Luisa’s throat move as she pauses to take a long draught from her water bottle, or when she takes off her hat to fan herself with it, or the way the sweat has soaked through the back of her t-shirt, highlighting her refined shoulder blades…

“If you’re going to stare all day, you might as well go do it out there,” Joey says very closely to her ear.

Rose squeaks in surprise and falls off the couch.

Joey raises his eyebrows. “You’ve got it bad.”

“It’s just weird having someone else around the house,” she says from her position half under the coffee table.

“Uh huh.”

“Don’t take that smug tone with me.”

…

Next week Joey goads her into joining Luisa in the garden.

“Don’t be ridiculous. I’m completely normal around her.”

“Prove it, then,” he says, pushing an empty pitcher into her hands. “Offer to help or get her some water or do anything to prove that she doesn’t affect you at all.”

“Fine.” Rose gets to her feet and stalks to the kitchen.

“There are lemons in the fridge if you wanted to use your sour mood to make some lemonade,” he tells her as he heads downstairs to take a look at the water softener.

“I’m not making her lemonade!”

 

She ends up making lemonade.

“Here,” she says, standing awkwardly at the edge of Luisa’s project and holding out the pitcher to her. “Joey made some fresh lemonade for you.”

“That was sweet of him,” Luisa says, tipping her hat back to wipe a strand of hair away from her forehead with the back of a hand. It leaves behind a smudge of dirt. Rose tries and fails not to find this infuriatingly attractive. “I just ran out of water.”

Rose knows this. She’d crouched behind the counter and peeked at Luisa through the window until Luisa took her last sip of water. Joey had walked in on this and promptly turned around and walked right back out before she could notice him and cover it up.

With her special peanut butter on the line, Rose supposes she can go the extra step. “Do you want me to get you a refill?”

“Sure, if you wouldn’t mind.” But when Rose turns to go, Luisa catches her by the wrist. “In a bit though. Stay here with me for a minute.”

“Why are you so demanding?” Rose grumbles but she doesn’t pull away.

Luisa grins. “Because I’m an older sister, that’s why. The oldest, actually.”

“Do you have a lot of siblings?”

“No. Just one little brother. His name’s Rafael. He’s an ass,” she says, but in that fond way that makes Rose ache, for a split second, for her family. “What about you?”

“Just me now. Joey used to look after all of us, my mom and my brother and me, but they’re gone now.”

“Oh. I’m sorry.”

Rose shrugs. “I’m not. My mom’s off in Europe somewhere, living the life she’s always wanted but couldn’t have with the two of us tying her down. And Derek is a douchebag. He’s probably blowing through his trust fund on his superyacht, partying it up in every port from Tokyo to Singapore.”

“It sounds like he and Rafael would get along great. So how did you end up with Joey? Wouldn’t he rather be out on the open water or criss-crossing Europe with your mom?”

Rose shakes her head. “He gets seasick. And his family’s here. It just made sense for him to stay. And if I had things for him to take care of, then it’s a win-win for both of us.”

“Really? And it’s not because he cares about you?”

“I doubt it,” she says, but with the telltale deadpan inflection of someone who knows better.

“For all his talents, this garden leaves something to be desired.”

“What was wrong with it before?”

“It was a mess. Overgrown with crabgrass, dry sandy dirt, and look at these tomatoes! Overcrowded and wilting in direct sunlight.”

Rose’s eyes flick questioningly between the plants and Luisa. “They seem okay to me?”

Luisa tuts and tugs on her hand. “Time to get your hands dirty.”

“What about the lemonade?”

Luisa dismisses that with a wave. “Put it down somewhere. Come on. This’ll only take a minute.”

Rose sighs but places the pitcher on a nearby bench before she crouches next to Luisa.

“Here.” Luisa hands her an onion bulb. “We’re going to plant this next to the tomatoes. It’ll make the most out of the space in this tiny garden and deter pests.”

“Tiny?” In a few short weeks, the garden has swelled to twice its previous size under Luisa’s work.

“Yeah. Ideally I’d like it to overtake the entire backyard but I’m not sure how you feel about that.”

“I don’t care,” Rose says. “If anything, it means less mowing.”

“In that case, I need to head back to garden center.” Luisa grins. Those goddamn eye crinkles show up again.

Rose stares at them for a while before she remembers herself. She clears her throat. “So what am I supposed to do with this thing?”

“They just need to be planted an inch or two in the soil.”

Rose swipes at a patch of dirt and sticks the ugly little nub in it.

“Great. Now tuck it in like it’s going to bed.” Rose does her best but her hands are too big and clumsy to do a very good job, with what limited practice she has. Luisa guides her fingers to gently press the soil around it. Rose makes the mistake of looking up at Luisa. Their faces are very close. Rose can smell the scent of her skin under the sweat and dirt.

Luisa glances up at her as well and smiles.

Rose suddenly realizes she has no good reason to be staring and blurts out an excuse. “You’ve got some dirt on your forehead.”

“Oh.” Luisa scrubs at her face but only ends up adding more dirt.

“No. Let me…” Rose pulls out a handkerchief from her pocket and wipes her face. It’s still a little smudged but it’s better than before. Is it legal to be so gorgeous with dirt on your face?

There’s a breathless moment where Rose isn’t sure what’s going to happen next, with Luisa smiling at her like that, before she abruptly stands and backs away. “I’m gonna...go get you some more water.”

She gulps down two glasses full herself before she goes back out to the garden to hand Luisa her bottle, studiously avoiding eye contact. “Anyway, you’re doing great. Tell me if you need anything.”

For the rest of the day, Rose sits with her back to the window and glares at her blank tablet.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We're at about the halfway point!
> 
> Trigger warning for men being the worst.

Juicy comes to visit Luisa at the front desk right after a successful hunting trip, if the dried bloodstains and the pungent musk of blood and innards is anything to go by.

“Hi Juicy,” Luisa says, mustering up a smile. “Welcome back.”

“Thank you, thank you. We bagged two does and a buck today. I shot all three, naturally. Some of the other boys were having trouble dressing them, but showed them my way—the best way, make no mistake—and after that they got the hang of it pretty quick. See, the secret is you have to really dig your gut hook right under the sternum and—”

“Congratulations.”

“—but you have to make sure that you pull down hard on the windpipe and esophagus with both hands so the entrails gather in the midsection.”

“That’s great.”

“Most of the time it’s fine, but the bullet has ruptured organs, you risk getting their nasty juices all over the meat so you’ve gotta—”

“Not that this isn’t fascinating, but can we finish this conversation later? I need to help the people behind you.”

Juicy turns to see an older couple waiting with their suitcases and their neon fanny packs. She turns back to Luisa. “I’ll be quick.” She leans in and lowers her voice. Luisa tries her best not to lean away. “Come celebrate with me tonight at the butcher’s. You can see how they process the meat.”

“As...romantic as that sounds,” Luisa says, “I can’t.”

“Why not? Do you have plans?”

“No, I—”

“Who are they with? I can convince them to postpone.”

“I really—”

“Surely, there can’t be anything more important in your life than spending time with the hottest person for miles around?”

“I’m seeing someone,” Luisa blurts out.

Juicy narrows her eyes. “Who?”

“You wouldn’t know her. She lives about an hour away. Her name is Rose.” Luisa hopes that Rose will forgive her for lying about being together to get Juicy off her case.

“What’s so great about her? What does she have that I don’t?”

Luisa realizes this is a very loaded question. “Well, she...you know, listens to me and sometimes she helps me with things I’m interested in and she uh…”

It suddenly strikes her that she doesn’t know all that much about Rose even though it’s been a good number of weeks since she started visiting her daily. She thought she was making progress with her but maybe Raf was right? The only thing she’s really sure about is that she’s very attracted to Rose, but that’s not something she wants to share with Juicy.

“I do all of those!” Juicy says indignantly. “You love hunting! Why else would we have such stimulating conversations about my kills?”

“I’m sorry, Juicy, I really do need to help them.” She waves the couple over. “Hi, welcome to the Longbourne. How can I help you?”

Juicy stands off to the side, tapping her foot against the tile for all of thirty seconds before she storms out of the lobby in a huff. All of them, Luisa and the couple, breathe a collective sigh of relief.

“I thought she’d never stop talking, dontcha know?” the whiskered man says.

“Oh ya, you betcha,” the woman says.

Luisa winces. “I’m sorry for the inconvenience. Thank you for your patience. I promise it won’t happen again.”

“It’s not your fault. She was coming on strong, wasn’t she?” the woman says.

Luisa shrugs and tries to smile. “Don’t worry about it. Thank you for choosing the Longbourne. We hope you enjoy your stay!”

The woman says, “Thank you, dear.” She hesitates before she says, “Be careful around that one. There’s something dangerous about her.”

For a second, Luisa isn’t sure if she means Rose or Juicy, but then she remembers they don’t even know who Rose is.

“Yes, I will. Thank you.”

 

Later that evening, Luisa whistles as she walks to her car, swinging a basket.

“Where are you going?” a voice asks.

Luisa jumps.

Juicy is leaning against the car next to hers, her face impassive.

“Oh hi Juicy,” she says, edging around her to get to the driver’s door.

Juicy pushes off the car to stand next to her. “What’s in the basket?”

“Oh you know, some romantic comedies, chicken noodle soup, cough drops. My grandma’s sick.”

“Sad,” Juicy says mildly. “Maybe you should pick up some flowers to make her feel better. I’ve always been partial to hollyhocks.”

Luisa nods. “I’ll think about it.”

There’s an awkward silence as Luisa hovers, one foot in her car and one foot on the ground. When Juicy doesn’t do more than stare at her, she says, “Well, have a good night.”

“Night,” Juicy says in an inscrutable tone.

Luisa holds back a shudder until she turns out of the parking lot. She can see Juicy in her rearview mirror, her expressionless face lit up by her phone.

...

The book of the month is  _ Lolita _ . Usually, book club will start out with a half-assed discussion on the themes and notable quotes before it deteriorates into arguments about what people liked and disliked and then it just ends in shameless day-drinking and bitching about things that happened to them the past week.

It’s a good time.

But this week, Rose bounces her leg the whole time, unable to sit still. Every time the conversation trickles toward the inevitable gleeful gossip session, Rose steers it back to the book.

“Why don’t any of you care? This man is a demon and to couch this entire narrative so that it reads that this...this girl, this innocent  _ seduced _ him when he is fully aware of his actions is nothing short of...utterly vile.”

“Rose, no one’s condoning pedophilia here, god forbid,” Susan says slowly, “but despite that, you have to admit the the narrator’s use of wordplay and little inside jokes to convincing the reader to sympathize with him despite his depravity.”

“But it’s, I...” Rose struggles to put her thoughts into words. She’s interrupted before she can though.

“Oh shut up, Susan,” Carol slurs. She’s always drunk by the half hour mark. “We all know you skim sparknotes the night before so you can sound smart.”

“That’s a lie!”

Several of the women snort into their wine glasses.

“I mean, isn’t that why you always choose classics?”

Susan whirls on Nancy. “As opposed to what, memoirs? There’s no substance to reading about someone recount their lives. Newsflash: reading about celebrities doesn’t make your life any more exciting.”

“Take that back! Carrie Fisher was a national treasure and you know it.”

“Bite me.”

“Don’t tempt me.”

While the rest of the book club devolves into bickering, Jane steers Rose out to the porch.

“You’d better make it worth my while,” Jane says, taking a sip of whiskey. “You know it’s gonna get good when Nancy pops her dentures in.” But her smile fades when Rose doesn’t offer a snappy comeback. “Hey, what’s up?”

Rose sits heavily on the porch swing and kicks her legs out in front of her. “I don’t know. This book really rattled me.” She shrugs. “I really wanted to look deeper into that but I guess I was the only one who felt that way.”

Jane sits next to her. “We could talk about it for the rest of the time if you want.”

“You didn’t even read it.”

“Yeah I didn’t, but I meant we could talk about which parts had you shooketh.”

“Had me what?”

“Shooketh. It’s what the kids are saying these days. It’s like shaken, but you know, ironic.”

“Okay...”

Jane prods her with an elbow. “So? Why were you so affected by the book? Was it the vulgar material?”

“No. I mean, yes, it was distasteful but usually this stuff doesn’t get to me if it’s fictional. I binged all of Game of Thrones and didn’t even bat an eye.”

“Really? Not even during the Sansaery scenes?”

“That doesn’t count. I was overcome with gay. That has nothing to do with this.”

“Okay, okay. So it wasn’t the kidnapping or incest or rape. Any idea what it was?”

Rose stares off into space, her brow furrowed. They swing in silence for a few minutes. Jane knows her well enough not to interrupt.

Finally, she says, “It was...his obsession with her. His staunch belief that it was love when it was a vile delusion. He used his feelings for her to justify hurting her in ways she might never recover from, thinking it was love. And even with the slightest chance that she did indeed seduce him, she was a child. She was too young to fully understand her actions or their impending consequences. That he took advantage of that to isolate her from any positive influences for years is nothing short of disgusting.”

Jane nods. “Okay. Is someone taking advantage of you?”

“No,” Rose says, but she bites her lip.

It’s enough of a telling gesture that prompts Jane to ask, “Are  _ you _ taking advantage of someone?”

“I...did I ever tell you about Luisa?”

Jane narrows her eyes. “The name sounds familiar. Is she an old girlfriend of yours?”

“No. She’s the one who wandered into my house in the middle of the night.”

“Right! Her. How is she?”

“Fine, I think. Maybe. She keeps showing up to work in the garden.”

“Good. Your garden’s a mess.”

“Why does everyone say that? There’s nothing wrong with it!”

Jane pats Rose’s huge paw. “Everyone knows that tomatoes can’t grow in direct sunlight.”

Rose rolls her eyes. “Anyway, both she and Joey are convinced that if she hangs around enough that I’ll fall in love with her and break the curse. Well, Joey’s hoping for that. Luisa doesn’t know about the curse.”

“Oh yeah. I forgot about the whole curse business.”

“How? Look at me.”

Jane grins. “Honestly, sometimes I forget you’ve got horns and fur everywhere. You’re just Rose to me.”

Rose pretends to gag. “You’re such a sap.”

“The curse can only be broken by romantic love? No chance of platonic love doing the trick?”

“No.”

“Shame, but you’re not my type at all.”

“Good. I could never date someone who bites their ice cream like a barbarian instead of licking it.”

“You’re just mad that your enamel is too weak to handle it.”

“One of these days, you’re going to realize you’re wrong.”

“Unlikely, especially when I’m already right. What does Luisa think? Maybe we can overrule you.”

“I don’t know. I haven’t really talked to her much.”

“Why not? I need to know if she’s an ally or just wrong like you are.”

Rose shrugs uneasily. “I don’t want to encourage her...infatuation with me.”

“Which is good, right?”

“No. I don’t think so. She’s into...what did she call it, monster fucking?”

Jane, in the middle of another sip of whiskey, snorts and dissolves into a choking fit. “Oh my god,” she gasps, “she’s a monster fucker?”

“What do you know about it?” Rose asks, genuinely curious.

“Nothing,” Jane says in this faux innocent tone.

“Jane...”

“Okay, so it makes sense that she’d be attracted to you. I still don’t get why this is a bad thing.”

Rose growls and runs her hands through her mane. “She doesn’t know what she’s trying to get herself into by pursuing me.”

“What do you mean?”

“Jane, I’m dangerous! Look at these claws, these teeth, these horns!”

She narrows her eyes. “Yeah...still not seeing the problem. Those are all things that she finds attractive. Allegedly.”

“Just because she thinks it’s a good idea to date doesn’t mean that it’s actually a good idea. And it’s not even that I could...I don’t know, be casually turning around one day and accidentally kill her. I already know that it won’t end well. Do you get where I’m going with this?  _ I’m _ Humbert Humbert. And she’s this bright, vibrant girl with her whole life ahead of her, and it doesn’t need to be derailed by me.”

Jane contemplates her words for a while before she says, “I feel like you’re comparing apples and oranges here. I mean, you’re an adult, she’s an adult. There’s no hostage taking or mind games in your situation. She’s has enough agency to make her own decisions. And she wants you.”

Rose shakes her head. “You’re taking it too literally. It would be so easy to string her along with promises of love, when in actuality I’d be manipulating her to break this damn curse.”

“I thought there was some condition built in to counteract that. Something like ‘if you could learn to love another and earn their love in return’?”

“Well yeah, but what if I never learn to love her? What if all I have are these...compulsions?” She kicks at a pebble on the porch and sends it skittering into the grass. “Sometimes I’m convinced there’s something wrong with me, that I’m broken in some fundamental way. Everyone around me seems to  _ feel _ so much all the time, and I don’t, unless it’s anger.”

Jane chews on her lip before she links their fingers together. “It surprises me so much sometimes the way you see yourself. You look at yourself and only see your failures, your shortcomings. You don’t see that way you love, the lengths that you’ll go to for those you care about. You don’t see your dogged pursuit of your goals, your dogged inability to give up. You don’t see your fortitude. You don’t see your adaptability, your rationality, your sense of discipline. You’ve got this level of self-awareness that I don’t think a lot of people have. But most of all, you have this humanity to you that I can’t believe you have the audacity to think you don’t possess because of some curse.”

“I really hate that you’re a lawyer and have such a way with words.”

Jane shrugs and takes another sip of whiskey. “And I can’t draw for shit. We’re even.”

They lapse into silence.

After a while, Rose says, “Thanks. For hearing me out.”

“Yeah, of course. Did I help at all?”

“I think so.”

“Does this mean you’ll stop denying your feelings for her?”

Rose sputters. “I’ll admit that I’m attracted to her, but I don’t have _ feelings _ for her. It’s way too early for any of that.”

“Hmm, you’ll keep me updated though right?”

“I feel like I might regret it if I do.”

Jane scoffs. “Excuse me? I’ve been nothing but supportive. And I’m only asking for this one tiny, little thing in return.”

“We’ll see.”

...

Despite Jane’s words of encouragement, Rose is still wary of letting Luisa see too much of her. She stays in her presence, if only to keep Joey from cutting off her peanut butter supply, but she’s scared of making a wrong move, and when Rose is scared, she becomes cold and standoffish.

To her credit, it’s weeks before Luisa cracks.

It’s well past ten one night when Luisa trudges into the house, covered in dirt, and heads straight for the shower. Rose barely glances up before she goes back to reading on the couch.

When Luisa comes out of the bathroom, wearing more of Rose’s old clothes, Rose says, “When are you going to bring your own clothes?”

“What’s wrong with me borrowing your clothes? I always wash them.”

“Don’t you get tired of wearing clothes that are too big for you?”

“No. I don’t see the problem. It’s not like you wear them anyway.”

“Maybe it bothers me that some crazy girl barged into my house and insists on making herself a part of my life despite evidence to the contrary,” Rose snaps.

Well that’s the last straw.

“What’s your problem with me?” Luisa demands. “You’re the one who stopped ignoring me in the first place.”

And here, instead of backing down, Rose lies. “Which I regret.”

“Well, fine! Maybe if you weren’t so mean and determined to drive everyone away, you wouldn’t be locked up in your house alone all the time!”

“Maybe I don’t want you around! You’re loud and annoying and you never know when to stop pushing!”

“Fine! This is me stopping. Enjoy the rest of your lonely, lonely life.”

Luisa storms out. A few seconds later she realizes that she’s left her purse in the house, but she is too proud to turn back after such a dramatic exit that she keeps walking. Besides, she can just replace her credit cards and driver’s license. Everything else doesn’t matter.

Her hands are shaking with rage as she approaches her car. She is still replaying the conversation over and over in her head, which is probably why she doesn’t notice the ragtag group of men in polo shirts until they stumble upon her.

“Hey darlin’,” one of them says. Her nose stings from an outpouring of alcohol fumes. They are all very, very drunk.

“Excuse me,” she says, putting her head down and side-stepping them.

“No wait,” another says, clumsily following her and grabbing her wrist. “C’mon, we’re not gonna hurt you. We just wanna talk.”

Her fury evaporates, replaced by absolute terror. She tries to yank her hand away but he holds fast. The rest of the men loiter between her and her car. “Have you heard of a monster around here? There are crazy tracks over by our country club.”

“We’re lookin’ for clues! Like Scooby-Doo!” another adds, guffawing.

“You’re very pretty, aren’t you? Wouldn’t want you to get attacked by the monster, now would we?”

“We could protect you,” another slurs. He squints up at the manor. “Is this your house? I didn’t think anyone lived out here.”

“Please let go of me,” she says, trying to stop her voice from shaking.

“Don’t be like that…” he says, lurching toward her.

She yelps and twists, headbutting him. Something gives under her forehead with a dull crack.

“Argh!” he staggers back, blood spewing from his nose.

She starts to run back to the gate, argument be damned, but one of the men tackles her. They fall in a tangle, and she kicks and scratches, rolling away from him and springing to her feet. But in the meantime, the rest have staggered over to surround her in a loose circle.

The man that grabbed her wrist smears blood on the inside of his arm and leers at her, his teeth bloodstained. “Oh darlin’, you really shouldn’t have done that.”

“Stay back!” she says, holding out her key fob. She flicks it open like switchblade. “I’ve got a knife.”

“Is that a key?” one of them asks.

“Don’t matter,” another one says. “We’ve got toys too, don’t we boys?”

They all pull out a variety of knives and guns.

“Would’ve been silly to go monster hunting without proper protection, wouldn’t it? Now how about you make it up to me for breaking my nose, hmm?”

As they close in, Luisa shakes and holds out her key, as if that will help her.

But before they can get close enough to grab her, a dark shape tears through the circle, shoving several of the men back before they can do more than cry out. The rest yelp in fear as they scramble backwards. Rose stands at her full height and grabs one of the men by the neck.

“You said you wanted to see the monster?” Her voice is so low and threatening that Luisa feels a different sort of fear than before cut straight to her heart. She’s too scared to move, staring up at Rose like a deer in the headlights.

“Here I am. What did you want?”

The night is silent but for the chirping of insects and the man choking for air. It could almost be peaceful if everyone wasn’t shaking in their boat shoes.

“What’s the matter? Not so brave now that we’re face to face?” Rose throws him. He bounces a few times, slides a few feet facedown, before he staggers to his feet. He stares at Rose, his face a mess of blood and scratches and dead leaves, and she glares back, growling. Nobody moves.

Then there’s an explosive pop. Rose roars. It startles everyone else into motion. They turn tail and scamper away, crashing through the underbrush. Rose turns to Luisa, breathing heavily, before her eyes roll back and she collapses in a dead faint.

There’s a trickle of blood creeping into the sedge grass bordering the path.

It takes a few moments for Luisa’s mind to clear before she can think. She considers stepping over Rose to get to her car and leave this whole mess behind her, but only for a split second. She sighs before she rolls Rose over, hooks her arms under her armpits, and starts dragging her back to the house.

 

It’s hours later when Rose starts to stir. The first thing she registers is that she’s exhausted, but she’s also very warm and relatively cozy, tucked into a cocoon of sheets on the floor next to the fireplace.

“Be glad I took the Hippocratic Oath or I would’ve left you out there.”

“No you wouldn’t have,” Rose mumbles, trying to get up. She collapses again when a lance of pain shoots through her leg.

Luisa sighs. “Yeah, I wouldn’t have. Try not to move. You’ve lost a lot of blood.” She pauses before she adds, “You should probably go to a hospital.”

“No,” Rose says immediately. “No hospital.”

“Look, unless you’ve got access to a secret x-ray machine here I don’t know about so I can at least determine if the bullet broke any bones, you’re going to need to see a doctor.”

“No.”

“Seriously? Not even a trusted friend who happens to be a vet?”

“No.”

Luisa frowns. “Have you never been grievously injured? Who have you been seeing?”

“Usually Joey patches me up as best he can. It works.”

“I’m calling Joey to deal with this then.”

“Don’t call him,” Rose says, struggling to get up again.

Luisa pushes her back down with a single finger while she texts with her other hand. “Why not?”

“Because he’s sleeping. Or spending time with his family. I don’t want to bother him.”

Luisa stares at her. “You do realize you were just shot, right? This is an emergency!”

“I’m fine. It’s fine. Has the bleeding stopped?”

“Yes, but…”

“But what?”

“The bullet’s still in there, though.”

“Why is it still in there?”

“I’m pretty sure I’m not supposed to go digging around in there, especially if I don’t know what I’m doing.”

“But I don’t want to keep a bullet in my thigh!”

“I was an obgyn. Bullets are way out of my comfort zone. But maybe Joey has more experience with emergency medicine than I do. I don’t know. He’s on his way.”

“He what?”

“Yeah, he’ll be here in half an hour. Try not to die by then.”

Rose fumes.

 

“And then I woke up in a lovely little bed and breakfast wrapped around three women in Uruguay,” Luisa says conversationally, as if Rose is not being petulant and determinedly not talking to her. “And that was when I finally realized that I had to take responsibility for my problems and start seeing situations through my third eye.”

“Not that your life story isn’t fascinating, but why are you still here?” Rose interrupts.

“Oh. Did you want me to leave?” She smiles tightly, but Rose can see the light in her eyes dull. Luisa fusses over her, tucking the sheets in closer. “Usually it’s standard procedure to monitor a patient overnight after something as traumatic as a gunshot wound, but if you really want me to go, I’ll go right after Joey gets here. I think you’ve stabilized at this point if you can be grouchy again.”

Rose scowls and shakes her head doggedly. “No, that’s not what I meant. Everything’s all fuzzy.”

“You’re fuzzy,” Luisa quips.

“You’re not helping.”

“Actually, I’m the only one who’s keeping you from going into a coma. Right now, anyway. Maybe Joey will be able to convince your stubborn ass to see a vet at least.”

“No. I don’t...no, what I’m trying to say is that my thoughts feel very sluggish.”

“Mmm, confusion is a common symptom of shock. Maybe I should stay the night after all...”

“I’m not in shock.”

“Tough luck. That's not for you to decide. Out of the two of us, who went to med school here?”

“That’s not relevant. What I meant to say in the first place was: why do you care?”

Luisa tilts her head. “Why wouldn’t I? You were kind to me when I needed a place to stay for the night and I’ve been trying to repay that kindness.”

“You don’t owe me anything,” Rose says gruffly.

“I’m not here because I feel...morally obligated or anything. I mean, I am in a way because I couldn’t just walk away when you were bleeding out after having come to my rescue. I’m just trying to make sure you don’t die. That isn’t too much to expect, right?”

“I don’t understand.”

“Which part don’t you understand?” she asks in such a tender voice that Rose shifts uneasily under the blankets, uncomfortable with Luisa’s affection after her outburst.

“Why are you still here after everything I said? Everything you said was true. I’m lonely and angry and mean.”

Luisa smiles down at Rose, her expression so gentle.  _ No, stop it _ , she tells her heart when it works itself into a frenzy at the sight.

“My dear, sweet Rose,” Luisa starts. (Now Rose wants to tell  _ her _ to stop it. There is nothing to be gained from giving her false hope.) “Why you didn’t leave me at the mercy of those men?”

“Because everyone knows that shitty, entitled men are the worst monsters there are and I was feeling murderous.”

“And not because you secretly enjoy my company and would never be able to forgive yourself if something happened to me?”

“Of course not.”

“And yet you didn’t kill a single one. You didn’t even maim any of them.”

“I like living out here in the peace and quiet. If any of them had shown up with more than wild stories, like half their intestines spilling out like I wanted to do to them, that would be enough proof for people to come poking their noses where they don’t belong.” A thought suddenly occurs to her. “Why? Did you want me to? Did they hurt you at all?”

“No. I’m okay. You came at exactly the right time. But why would you care if they hurt me if I said all those hurtful things to you?”

“Because…” Rose has too many emotions roiling through her and a complete inability to articulate them. The only thing she’s certain of is Luisa should never be hurt. Instead she says, “You don’t deserve whatever horrors they had in store for you. No one does. But especially not because you said a few true things.”

Luisa chews on the inside of her cheek. “I’m sorry I said all of that. You are...difficult to deal with sometimes, but that doesn’t mean that you deserve to be sad and alone forever.”

Rose looks at Luisa, lit by firelight from behind, through half-closed eyes and lies through her teeth. “But I want to be.”

“That’s too bad. I’m your friend now whether you want me or not. Comes with the territory of saving me from predatory men.”

“I’m sorry too,” Rose says grudgingly. “I admire your persistence. I know I’m not an easy person to tolerate most of the time, but I suppose that you’re not the worst thing that could’ve happened to me.”

“High praise indeed,” Luisa says wryly.

Rose yawns like a lion. “So am I allowed to sleep or not?”

“Joey will be any minute now. Try to stay awake.” Luisa lays the back of her hand against Rose’s forehead and frowns. “You’re burning up. That’s not normal.”

“I’m always like this. I run hot.”

Luisa smirks. “You don’t need to tell me that.”

“I could literally be dying here. Do you really want to make bad puns now?”

“Sorry. I make jokes to deal with stressful situations.” She wets a washcloth and sets it on Rose’s forehead, before she smooths back Rose’s brow. “Oh, did I tell you about what my shaman said about the toxicity of money?”

 

When Joey bursts into the manor, Luisa is in the middle of telling Rose how she would put all her money in various trusts, including one that reintroduces ferrets to the wild, if she had full control over the hotel shares.

“Hey, Joey,” Luisa says, like he’s forgotten something and come back for it and not because Rose is in dire need of emergency care.

“What’s the damage?” Joey says, already rolling up his sleeves.

Luisa lifts the sheet to show him the bandage around Rose’s thigh. “Unless you’re some sort of field medic, she needs to go to the hospital.”

“I’m not, but that won’t be necessary.”

“How? She was just shot!”

“Yes, but look.” When he unravels the bloodstained bandage, the wound already looks several days old. “When Mistress Rose...became this way, one of the things she got out of it was an accelerated healing factor.”

“Oh, that is so fucking cool,” Luisa whispers.

“I told you I wasn’t in shock.”

“You also said you could literally be dying, even though you knew you were perfectly fine this whole time? You could’ve just told me about this nifty ability in the first place.” She turns to Joey. “What about all the blood she’s lost?”

“She just needs several days of bedrest and lots of fluids.”

“I could’ve prescribed myself that and I’m not even a doctor,” Rose huffs.

“Don’t be sassy,” Joey says.

“I was just shot by a fuckboy. I’ll be as sassy as I want.”

Joey sighs. “Do you see what I have to deal with?”

“That’s okay. Go home. I’ll stay with her and make sure nothing happens. In fact, as an actual doctor—”

“I thought you lost your license,” Joey says.

“—as an  _ actual _ doctor, I can stay to monitor her recovery for as long as it takes.”

“I’ll be fine by tomorrow,” Rose says.

“What she means is she’ll need to recover for the next few weeks,” Joey clarifies.

“That’s not a problem. I’ve got a ton of vacation time saved up. I’ll just let my bosses know first thing in the morning.”

“I don’t need your help,” Rose grumbles.

“She means thank you.”

Rose is too exhausted to roll her eyes. “So can I sleep now?”

“I suppose so. Would you prefer the pull-out couch or your bed?” Joey asks.

“What’s wrong with the floor?” Rose mumbles, already half-asleep.

He snorts. “You’re not in your twenties anymore, Mistress. You don’t want to wake up in the morning with all sorts of aches and pains in addition to your injury.”

“Can we even get her up the stairs?” Luisa asks.

“Good point. Couch it is.”

Rose grumbles halfheartedly, more out of irritation than pain, when they lift and grunt and push her onto the bed. Luisa pulls an armchair to sit in at her bedside.

Despite her injury, Rose falls into a deep and untroubled sleep, waking only once during the night when Luisa finally nods off after a valiant fight against sleep, using Rose’s beefy forearm as a pillow.

 

In the morning, Luisa has somehow completely migrated onto the couch, their legs tangled up together. Rose tenses up when she realizes this, but Luisa simply mumbles, “Don’t make it weird. It’s not weird,” and nuzzles against her arm. Within seconds, she’s asleep again.

Rose doesn’t really have any other choice than to stay in bed. She was just shot, after all.


	5. Chapter 5

Luisa only wakes when Rose tries to get off the bed.

“Where are you going?” she mumbles through a yawn.

“I need to pee.”

“Okay I’m up, I’m up.”

“No, don’t worry about it. You’ve been up all night. I can do it.”

Luisa rubs at an eye.. “Are you sure about that?”

“Of course,” she scoffs before she tries to put weight on her bad leg and promptly collapses.

Luisa peeks at her from on top of the bed. “I’m nice enough not to say ‘I told you so.’”

Rose groans.

 

“This really isn’t necessary,” Rose grumbles. Luisa has one of Rose’s arms slung over her shoulders as she supports her upstairs. She’s insisted on being her crutch for the past few days. Rose is surprised that she’s stronger than she looks, not that she’ll ever tell her that.

“Regardless of your supernatural healing abilities, you shouldn’t be walking on that leg for at least a few days at the very least. Besides, I already took the next three weeks off. What am I going to do in the meantime?”

“I don't know. Something you enjoy. Not sticking around here and playing nursemaid.”

“Stop making this out to be some sort of burden. I like spending time with you.”

Rose has no response to this.

 

Joey’s had to take a few days off for a family emergency, so most days it’s just the two of them in the house.

“So I need to uh, take a shower,” Rose says at one point.

“Okay. Come on then.” Luisa pulls her to her feet.

Rose gets progressively more and more nervous as they approach the bathroom. Luisa turns on the water to warm up as she goes to get a change of clothes. Rose is already half-naked when Luisa returns.

She clears her throat when Luisa places the folded clothes on the sink and then starts unbuttoning her own shirt. “What are you doing?”

“The rest of my clothes I brought with me are in the wash and you threw a hissy fit the last time I borrowed yours.”

Rose can just barely make out the shadow of her cleavage. She has to put a stop to this before she does something she’ll regret. She has to swallow several times before she can force out, “What does that have anything to do with you getting undressed?”

“You’re going to need help in the shower.”

“I absolutely do not.”

“Rose, stop being so stubborn. This is a safety hazard. I was a doctor. I am familiar with all sorts of naked bodies. This isn’t some kind of weird sexual thi—”

Rose interrupts her. “I’m not comfortable with you being here while I shower.”

Luisa frowns. “I’ll be right outside the door, okay? If you slip, the magic words are ‘help! I’ve fallen and I can’t get up!’ and I’ll come charging in.”

“That’s not going to happen.”

“Doesn’t hurt to be prepared,” she sing-songs. Her lapels of her shirt flutter enticingly as she closes the door behind her.

Although the water is warm now, Rose cranks the handle until the spray is icy.

 

When she’s not tending to Rose, Luisa spends her time in the garden or helping out around the house. One day, she fixes the range hood above the stove, which had started to make a rattling sound every time the fan was turned on. Rose also realizes that she wasn’t kidding about not being able to cook. The eggplants still aren’t quite ripe yet. And other than her presumable talent with eggplant, Luisa makes a lot of mac and cheese, eggs, hot pockets, and sandwiches. Otherwise, she’ll run into town to get takeout: Chinese or pizza most of the time.

After a solid week of nothing of discernable nutritional value, Rose limps into the kitchen.

“What are you doing in here? Go sit down. I’m making dinner.”

Rose takes a look and flinches. “Ramen again?”

“What’s wrong with it?”

“You cook like a college kid, which I appreciate,” she hastens to say when Luisa’s face turns thunderous, “but you’ve got to admit the instant stuff has to get old.”

“I’m doing my best.”

“I know. Thank you. But come on, I’ll show you how to make…” She stands in front of the open fridge and considers. “Veggie garlic noodles, if you’re craving noodles.”

Luisa stifles a snort when Rose dons an apron. “Don’t laugh,” she says, pouting. “Joey got me this when I binged an entire season of Chopped one night a few years ago.”

“I wasn’t laughing because you’re wearing one. You’re even cuter than usual with it on actually. But please remind me to tell Joey that he has excellent taste in aprons.”

The apron says “kiss the cook but don’t touch the buns”.

“Yes, he thought he was very clever,” Rose says briskly. The first part of Luisa’s statement sinks in. “And I’m not cute. I’m menacing.” She snaps her teeth for emphasis.

“If you say so,” Luisa says with a grin.

“I do.”

They work well together, stepping around each other in the kitchen in harmony like they’ve been doing this for years. Luisa is showing off by demonstrating how fast she can mince garlic when she jerks back, holding her hand against her mouth.

Rose drops the strainer of noodles in the sink. “Did you cut yourself?”

Luisa hisses. “I can’t believe I cut myself over garlic. My grandmother is rolling in her grave.”

“Let me see.”

She holds out her finger petulantly. A single drop of blood is welling from the cut.

“It’s not deep.”

“Where do you keep the band—?” Luisa gasps as Rose bends over her hand. Rose gives her a shy look from under her eyelashes before she very delicately sticks Luisa’s finger in her mouth. Luisa startles when Rose’s tongue brushes against her finger. The only thing she can think of saying is, “Do I need to tell you how unsanitary that is?”

Rose pulls her over to the sink and washes off the cut. “Look.”

Luisa squints at her finger. There’s no cut. “No fucking way,” she breathes. “Is it some sort of hormone? A mutation in your cells? What’s the extent of its capabilities? Could you like close up a severed stump? Can I bottle your spit?”

“What? No!”

“Please? Not even for science?”

“Especially for science. The last thing I need is people to come knocking on my door looking for a miracle cure. It’s nothing drastic, just disinfects and heals burns and cuts. Like time-lapsed Neosporin.”

“That’s so cool. What other talents are you hiding?”

“Once I bowled a perfect game on the Wii.”

“Damn. That  _ is _ impressive.”

When they sit at the counter with their bowls twenty minutes later, Rose watches her intently as she takes her first bite. “So? Better than another bowl of ramen?”

“I suppose. A little too many vegetables for my taste.”

“Eggplant’s a vegetable.”

“Eggplant is different.”

“You were a doctor? How can you not like vegetables?”

“I haven’t been in for a check-up in five years.”

“Why not?”

“I don’t like going to the doctor.”

Rose stares at her, mystified. “You are an enigma.”

Luisa winks. “Can’t give up too many of my secrets. It’ll ruin my air of mystery.”

_ Stop that _ , Rose tells her heart as it kicks into overdrive.

 

By the end of the second week, Rose is more or less walking around on her own again.

Rose knows something has changed between them. Although they never bring it up verbally, Rose understands that Luisa is grateful that Rose saved her from those men, and Rose supposes she appreciates that for all of Luisa’s idyllic admiration for what she is, she also saw her very close to as savage and brutal as she gets, and wasn’t repulsed enough to abandon her to die.

That realization lifts a burden off Rose’s shoulders.

Even though Rose doesn’t need her anymore and Luisa goes back to work, she comes and goes as she pleases instead of her usual once a week visit.

Sometimes she stops by just to hang out, not even under the pretense of working in her garden.

One Tuesday, she spends all evening pressed against Rose and yelling at the Chopped contestants.

(“No, you idiot! Don’t use the ice cream machine! It never works! Why don’t they ever learn?”

And Rose had felt something warm and dangerous curl around her lungs.

_ This doesn’t mean anything _ .)

 

Of course, Joey notices that she’s a lot more comfortable around Luisa now.

“So what is it that’s changed your mind about Miss Luisa?” he asks very tactfully.

Rose shrugs churlishly. “Nothing. I don’t know.”

He gazes at her shrewdly until she buckles under the pressure.

“Okay, so  _ maybe _ you were right and she’s not as bad as I thought she was.”

“The sooner you realize I’m right about a lot of things, the easier your life will be.”

“Ha!” is all Rose says in response.

 

Joey heads out to Luisa’s garden one day, keeping a sharp eye out for Rose.

“Hi Joey. What’s up?” Luisa asks, pulling at a particularly stubborn weed.

“So what are your intentions with my mistress?”

“My what?”

“Intentions.”

“To be friends? I thought you knew this? You were the one that brought it up in the first place.”

“Is that all?”

Luisa shifts guiltily. “Well, no. Ideally, I’d like to date her, but I already told you this. And if she doesn’t have feelings for me, that’s fine. I can be friends with someone I’m attracted to and not be a dick and guilt them into seeing me as anything else. I’m not a shitty, entitled straight man.”

“Okay, but surely you’ve noticed that she’s noticeably happier to see you now.”

“Yeah...?”

“So perhaps she would be open to being more than friends.”

Luisa frowns. “Wait a second, is this a reverse ‘what are your intentions with my daughter’ sort of deal?”

“I suppose so, yes.”

Luisa sits back and blinks. “I’ve never had one of these before.”

“I doubt you’ve met anyone as stubborn as Mistress Rose either. She just needs a nudge now and again to go after things she wants. And although she would be perfectly happy having you in her life as a friend, I’m pretty sure she wouldn’t be opposed to dating.”

“How sure?”

“Enough to risk being mauled if I’m wrong.”

She nods. “That’s definitely a vote of confidence. Okay, in that case, there’s a surefire three step plan that will guarantee seduction.”

“You have a plan?”

“Okay, maybe it’s not a full-fledged plan, but it’s gotten me an ton of ass.”

Joey grimaces. “How long is this going to take?”

“Anywhere between a week and several months. With Rose, I’m thinking it’s going to be the latter. I’ve got to be subtle, make sure I don’t scare her off. Why do you ask?”

“Just wondering how much time off I’m going to need beforehand before you spring your seduction. Unfortunately, I don’t have several months worth of vacation time, but warn me before you’re going to attempt something and I’ll make myself scarce.”

Luisa grins. “Deal.”

...

After weeks of work, the hard part of gardening is done. Luisa just has to do some light weeding and watering and she’s done for the day. Now comes the waiting. She comes in one day and flops onto the sofa, splaying out over Rose’s lap. “I’m bored.”

Rose grunts, but doesn’t do anything other than shift to accommodate her so she can keep reading comfortably. “I’m not sure what you want me to do about it.”

Luisa lifts her head so she can read too. Rose makes a noise of protest. She can’t see anything with Luisa’s head in the way.

“I love  _ The Graveyard Book _ ! Neil Gaiman is a master storyteller, of course, but I find his children’s books have something extra special about them. The wonder, or maybe the pervading sense of nostalgia? I don’t think I’ve ever cried so hard about a boy not being a ghost.”

“You read a lot?”

“It’s one of the best things about my job actually. When I was an obgyn I never had a time to read as much as I liked. Even when I had free time, it just felt like I was recharging from working instead of being able to do things I wanted to. But once I started working at the inn, I had oodles of time to do whatever I wanted. I’m working my way through the Outlander series right now.”

“Do you prefer romance?”

“I read a bit of everything, but I am particularly fond of magical realism. My to read list at this point could probably take up several notebooks.”

“Hmm.” Rose closes the book with a snap.

“Hey! It was just getting good.”

“You’ve already read it anyway. Come on. I’ve got something to show you.”

Luisa gives her a suspicious look but follows her anyway when she gets up and leaves the room. Rose leads her to the grand winding staircase. She checks to make sure no one’s in sight, just to be dramatic, since they both know that Joey left hours ago. But Luisa can’t help but gasp when Rose knocks in three sequential spots and a door appears.

“No way. Does this lead to Narnia?”

Rose grins at her. “Even better.”

“Better than Narnia?” Luisa whispers to herself.

The door opens to a narrow, dark passageway. Rose wordlessly offers Luisa her hand, which she takes.

“A secret passageway! I’ve always wanted to live in a house with one. Can I move in?”

Rose pauses. “I think it’s a little early in our relationship for that.”

“We have a relationship!”

“Don’t push your luck,” Rose says, but she doesn’t let go of Luisa’s hand either.

It’s small enough that Rose has to stoop to enter. Luisa stands as tall as she can and still doesn’t get close to brushing the ceiling as she allows Rose to pull her in after her.

After she counts sixty steps, the passageway opens up into a half-moon chamber. The only distinguishing feature are the double doors straight ahead. Rose, able to stand at her full height again, drops her hand. “Go on. Open them.”

“Is this some terrible joke where I think it’s going to be something great and then it turns out it’s a pit of gators or something?"

“What is your obsession with gators?”

“Do you forget you live in a Floridian swamp?”

“It’s not a pit of gators. You’ll like it.”

She gives Rose one more pout before she pushes open the doors. “Oh…”

The doors open into a huge room whose walls are covered with book-filled shelves. The ceiling itself is glass. Luisa can see the stars glinting in between the tree canopy. There’s a massive fireplace, dark and cold, at one end. Rose throws open the drapes to two floor-to-ceiling windows, bathing everything in moonlight, sneezing repeatedly as the action kicks up a swirl of dust. She flicks a switch and the cobwebbed chandeliers blaze to life.

“Why haven’t I seen this room before?” Luisa asks, slowly spinning in place to take everything in.

“There’s only one way in and out. You wouldn’t have been able to find it yourself. I think the whole secret library part adds to the magic of reading.”

“As opposed to actual magic?”

Rose coughs unconvincingly. “Actual magic? What do you mean by that?”

“You can’t believe that I’d see everything that I have here and not come to my own conclusions?”

“There’s a scientific explanation for everything.”

“Is there?”

“Of course.”

“Why does the door only show when you knock?”

Rose opens her mouth and then shuts it. “Okay, you’re right. There’s not.” When Luisa gazes at her in anticipation, Rose says, “I don’t know if I’m ready to tell you the whole story yet, though.”

“That’s fine.” Luisa wanders over to a shelf and reaches out, but stops before she actually touches anything. “Can I?”

“I didn’t show you the secret library just to show off. Feel free to peruse whenever you want.”

“Can I get in myself?”

“Yeah. You just need to knock in the right places.”

Luisa walks her fingers over their spines. “What’s the entirety of David Sedaris’s works doing next to  _ Matilda _ ?”

“They’re not really...organized. Joey goes to the used bookstore in town every week and comes back with a few books that I ask for and a few that he thinks I’ll like. And when I’m done reading them, I stick them in here.”

“How do you find anything?”

Rose shrugs. “I don’t. If I don’t have anything to read, I’ll wander around until I find something that I want to read again.”

“Hmm,” Luisa says, dropping her hand and craning her neck to make out book titles. She gasps. “Oh my god, is that  _ The Anarchist Cookbook _ up there?”

“Probably.”

She stands on her tiptoes and reaches, her tongue sticking out of the corner of her mouth, making little sounds of exertion, until her fingers barely graze its cover.

“There are ladders, you know,” Rose says softly from behind her, lifting her arm up over her to easily reach the shelf. Luisa turns to face her and presses herself against the shelves, breathless by how close they are. Rose doesn’t take her eyes off her as she plucks the book from its place and hands it to her.

“Why bother with those if I’ve got you?” Luisa asks, holding the book against her chest.

“I’m not your babysitter. I’m not going to follow you around every time you need to reach a book.”

“Okay.” Luisa might not be able to reach the books she wants, but she swings up onto a nearby ladder to kiss Rose on the cheek. “Thank you.”

It’s so quick Rose doesn’t even have time to react besides standing there stupidly and gaping while Luisa ducks under her arm and runs off with the book, like Rose will take it back if she hangs around for too long.

And the first thing Rose says when she regains her voice is, “You’d better not blow my house up!”

Luisa pokes her head back through the doorway. “My shaman says I need to work on not making promises I know I can’t keep,” she says before she ducks out of sight.

“Luisa, I’m serious!” she shouts after her.

“So am I!”

 

Luckily, Luisa does not blow up her house, although she does drag Rose out to the backyard a few days later to witness homemade smoke grenades spewing a rainbow of fumes into the air.

“Look, the whole swamp’s gay!” Luisa exclaims with pride.

“Oh.” Rose blinks. “I guess this is the coming out party I never had.”

...

It’s a beautiful April day. Rose has all the windows open to let the fresh spring air circulate in the house. She’s in the kitchen making more lemonade for Luisa when she hears her give a startled shriek and then shout, “Aight bitch, you wanna tango? Let’s dance.”

Rose hurries out to the garden. “Luisa? What’s—oh my god,  _ what are you doing _ ?”

Luisa is swaying slightly in a wrestler’s stance, her arms out, a trowel in one hand. She’s staring down a gator, who is creeping toward her.

“Run!” Rose yells, launching herself at the gator from behind. It hisses and snaps at her before she manages to fasten her arms around its jaws.

“What about my eggplants!” Luisa has the nerve to sound resentful, her hands on her hips.

“Fuck your eggplants!” Rose screams as the gator thrashes under her. She’s never been so thankful for her muscles as she squeezes her thighs around its scaly torso to hang on.

“Just you wait, I will literally make you eat your words when you taste my eggplant parmesan for the first time.”

“Luisa! For fuck’s sake!” Rose means to say more, probably something like “Get in the damn house!” or “Just get out of here,” but the gator attempts to roll and Rose has to focus on not dying herself. She pins its hind legs with her own clawed feet and wrenches up until she’s hugging its head against her chest.

Its struggles weaken until it’s only pedaling its front legs limply. Rose realizes that she’s shaking badly.

Luisa still has not moved. “So what now?”

“I’m not sure,” Rose says, still trembling. “I don’t know how to let it go without getting bitten.”

“Oh wait, I know! Hang on a second!” Luisa runs off and comes back with a length of rope. “But first! Stand still!”

“I don’t really have a choice.”

Luisa holds up her phone. “Say cheese!”

“Come on, no, Luisa!” Rose says instead.

“When else are you gonna get a photo of you holding a gator’s jaws closed? Actually, I don’t have any photos of you at all.”

“Good. The fewer the better.”

“Have a little trust in me. I’m not gonna send it to anyone.”

Rose starts to say something but then the gator flails and she yelps and tightens her hold. Luisa ties the rope around its mouth, making a show of double knotting. “Okay. You can let go now.”

“And do what? It’s still going to be in the garden.”

“Hmm, that’s a good point.”

With Joey’s help, they end up backing his truck into the backyard and tying a leash around the gator. And then they take it for a walk far, far away from the house. Joey and Luisa stay in the cab as Rose stands on the bed and cuts the leash and the makeshift muzzle with a pair of long-handled shears and prods it into the water.

They all relax when it slips into the creek after a final hiss.

Luisa hops into the bed to sit with Rose on the bumpy ride back. Luisa leans into her even though she’s sweaty and stinks of swamp water and reptilian musk.

“Thanks for saving me again,” Luisa says finally.

“Please don’t ever try to take on a gator with a trowel again.”

“So have you thought about having a taller fence?”

“They can climb fences.”

Luisa cocks her head thoughtfully. “I’ve got an idea…”

 

Somehow, Rose gets roped into being Luisa’s official assistant as she plants a border of thick, thorny rose bushes around the entire property.

(“What if another gator shows up while you’re inside? You wouldn’t want anything to happen to me if you couldn’t get here in time,” Luisa had said nonchalantly as she arranged the rose bush in the dirt.

Rose had merely grunted and kept digging more holes.)

Within a few weeks, they’ve grown to waist height, threaded through the bars of the fence and woven together to form a barbed tapestry.

“Damn, what did you put in that fertilizer?” Luisa asks her, reaching out to cup a blood-red rose, drooping on the stem from its own weight.

“It wasn’t the fertilizer. I took a cutting from a rose I’ve been taking care of for a while and this happened.” She gestures to the wall.

“Is it a magic rose?”

“I can neither confirm nor deny that.”

“It totally is. Can I see it?”

“Better.” Rose leads her back inside. On the kitchen counter is a potted rose bush, the same vibrant red as the blooms outside, with a bow around the pot. “It’s yours, if you want it.”

“Really? Why?” Luisa picks the pot up and turns it this way and that. There’s something not quite natural about it. Must be the magic aspect.

“You know I don’t have much of a green thumb. I thought it would fare better under your care.”

“I’ll take really good care of it. I promise!”

Rose smiles. It’s tinged with something melancholy Luisa can’t quite name, but it’s real and it’s for her. She would kiss her cheek again, but there aren’t any handy ladders nearby so she can’t reach.

 

“You gave her your enchanted rose?” Joey asks, gaping.

“It’s not a big deal.”

“What do you mean, it’s not a big deal? If she kills it, she kills you!”

Rose shrugs. “Maybe that’s what the fairy had in mind when she gave it to me.”

“She didn’t tell you to give the rose away!”

She fidgets under Joey’s incredulous stare. “I don’t know. It seemed right at the time. I don’t have anything else to give her. You should’ve seen how happy it made her. And if death is the price I pay to see her smile like that, I’ll pay it.”

Joey rolls his eyes. “You millenials and your obsession with death. No one is dying around here. Not on my watch.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Rose wrestling a gator is entirely roisacoloredglasses's fault


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Luisa turns up the heat lol

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for your patience! This chapter kicked my ass multiple times and this last month was super busy, but I hope you enjoy it! Happy 20biteen!

More often than not, Luisa will wander into the kitchen to help Rose with her stress baking. Rose loves her job, but she’s currently juggling five different commissions, all marked urgent.

Today, they’re making a chilled lemon souffle.

“I always thought souffles were super difficult, but they turned out pretty okay. Not even that misshapen. Not bad for a first try,” Luisa comments, sitting on the kitchen counter and taking her time licking the wire beaters clean.

Rose hums in agreement, concentrating on washing the dishes so Luisa can’t see her flush.

 

Luisa will drop by whenever anyone’s in the kitchen, really. Joey shows her how to roast leg of lamb. Most of the time, Rose just throws together whatever’s easiest based on time and the ingredients they have on hand. Luisa is super jealous of this ability.

“What do you mean you only need one pot for an authentic Cuban picadillo? This is witchcraft!”

Sometimes when they’re feeling lazy, they’ll just default to pizza or ramen while watching Chopped.

(“How dare they not use the fresh, free-trade, organic snow peas!” Luisa had yelled one day.

“Luisa, do you realize that all the vegetables in your ramen are microscopic and dehydrated and barely count as a serving of vegetables?” Rose had asked.

“That’s different.”

Joey and Rose had exchanged a look.)

Rose learns that Luisa likes sprinkling chili flakes on her pizza. Also that she loves Hawaiian pizza. It is an abomination.

“Ugh, how can you even eat that? The sweetness completely ruins it.”

“That’s the best part. It compliments the savoriness of the Canadian bacon. You’d know that if you were a true food connoisseur.”

“Just because I watch a lot of the Food Network doesn’t mean I’m even close to a food connoisseur. Maybe you and Jane would get along well. You’re both crazy.”

Luisa gets very quiet.

Rose realizes instantly that she’s said something wrong. “I didn’t—”

“Please don’t call me crazy,” she says in this soft, somber voice that makes Rose ache.

“I’m sorry. I won’t. I didn’t mean to hurt you.”

“It’s okay. Sometimes I forget myself and I use it too. But whenever people call me crazy, it...brings up a lot of bad memories. It’s actually why I started yelling at you that night you got shot.”

“I’m sorry. I didn’t know.”

Luisa shrugs. “I know. Just something to keep in mind.” She smiles and it’s only slightly tremulous. “So when do I get to meet your best friend? That’s a big step.”

“Never, if I can help it. You’d both have too much fun at my expense.”

The mood is light again, but it takes awhile for the surge of protectiveness Rose feels to die down. It’s troubling.

...

One day, Rose is tearing the kitchen apart looking for her favorite spatula. She’s been craving an omelette all day.

Joey ambles by with a screwdriver.

She has her head stuck in a cabinet, flinging tupperware out of it in her search. “Have you seen my spatula?”

“Which one?”

“The one with the metal handle.”

“Did you check the dishwasher?”

“Of course.”

“Hmm, I think I saw Miss Luisa using it a few days ago. You could ask her.”

Rose pulls her head out of the cabinet and glances around. “Do you know where she is?”

He fidgets. “No clue. Uh, I just remembered I need to go buy another screwdriver. I’ll be back in a few hours.”

At the moment, Rose is too distracted to wonder why stopping by Home Depot would take a few hours.

She wanders around the house and even through the garden, which is no mean feat nowadays. Since Luisa’s showed up, it’s expanded to the entire backyard and is now taking over the front lawn as well. There are no neat rows or groups that Rose can make sense of, but that’s not to say that there’s no structure. Luisa has no trouble finding whatever she needs.

(“The avocados are right next to the chickpeas, obviously, because what’s the use of having guacamole if you don’t have hummus?” Luisa had said when Rose had asked her.

“Of course,” Rose had said.)

Luisa is nowhere to be found.

Rose finally thinks to check the library. She hears someone moving things around on the shelves before she clears the passageway.

“Hey Luisa, have you seen my— _ jesus christ! _ ” She enters the library, just an innocent trying to find her spatula. She is not prepared to be assaulted by the sight of Luisa in a French maid costume.

Luisa looks up, half bent over an end table. “Hi Rose.”

“Uh…” She can’t stop staring at Luisa’s calves in those stockings. She isn’t even conscious of backing up until she runs into a shelf, rattling it. A light paperback falls from above and thunks her in the head. She sinks against the bookshelf until she’s sitting on the floor.

Luisa hurries over, fussing over her head. “Are you okay?”

This close, Rose can see the hint of a white lace garter under her skirt. This realization does nothing to calm her down. “Yup. Yeah. Fine. I’m fine. Uh, what are you doing?”

“Dusting. It’s a mess in here.” She holds up a feather duster.

Rose swallows. “Is the outfit really necessary?”

Luisa shrugs. “I thought it would be fun.”

“For who?” Rose asks hoarsely.

She frowns. “Does it bother you?”

Yes, but more “hot and bothered” than what Luisa means. “No. Not at all. Dress however you want. Do whatever you want. Whatever I think doesn’t matter.”

Luisa tilts her head. “What about the opposite?”

“Huh?”

Luisa smirks and says, “Do you like it?”

“No comment!” Rose squeaks.

She stands on either side of Rose’s outstretched legs and leans toward her. “Would you like to take it off?” she whispers.

“Spatula!” Rose yells before she scrambles out from under her and books it out of the library.

Alone, Luisa taps the handle of the feather duster against her chin in thought. “Hmm, maybe I should’ve started with sexy librarian first. Ease her into it a bit.”

…

Over the next few weeks, Rose does everything she can to convince herself that that was a total fluke. Yes, she’s attracted to Luisa. Yes, Luisa is very interested in being more than friends. But they’re in a good place right now. And Luisa deserves better than someone that will bring all their emotional baggage to a relationship, not to mention all the possible danger that being with her will pose.

Luisa has other plans.

 

The eggplants are finally ready. Luisa spends all day in the kitchen, jabbing a wooden spoon threateningly at both Joey and Rose if they get too close.

“I want the first bite to be pure unadulterated joy and part of it is the surprise, which will be ruined if you don’t get out of here right now!”

Rose retreats to her desk, figuring she might as well work on a project that’s due in few days. She’s spends hours staring at her tablet, adjusting curves and cleaning lines up. She’s so focused she doesn’t notice Luisa come up behind her until she leans her chin on her shoulder.

“Whatcha doin’?”

Rose startles, swiveling in her office chair to face her. “You scared me.”

“Sorry. The eggplant’s in the oven. I had a few minutes to spare. Just wanted to check up on you.”

“I’m doing fine. Just working.”

“You’ve been working all day. Do you need a break?” Luisa’s voice dips into this throaty rasp that makes Rose suddenly very, very nervous.

“I, um...oh,” Rose says as Luisa straddles her lap. She can’t remember how to swallow unobtrusively. Has she always made this much spit?

“Is this okay?” Luisa asks in that same low tone.

Rose is struggling to come up with something that will let Luisa down gently, without hurting her feelings, and also won’t give away how much Rose actually really wants her. “Listen, I—”

But then Luisa leans in and traces her nose up along her jawline, inhaling deeply. Rose spasms and throws her head back, almost violently enough to unseat Luisa, who digs her fingers into Rose’s shoulders to keep her balance. Rose can’t stop herself from making an embarrassingly needy sound.

Luisa quirks an eyebrow. “What were you saying?”

“This is a bad idea. If I touch you, I’m going to hurt you,” Rose gasps, flexing her claws.

“Oh? Is that your only objection?”

Rose lifts her head to look at her. “What do you mean? Is that not enough?”

“That’s easy enough to remedy,” Luisa says with a devilish grin. She takes both of Rose’s hands and places them on each of the armrests. “These stay here. You don’t get to touch.”

“Oh god.” It’s evident by Luisa’s commanding tone that this is not the first time she’s done this.

Luisa smirks. “Think you can handle that?”

“D-don’t flatter yourself.” Rose’s hands tighten on the armrests. “This is nothing. You don’t affect me at all.”

“Hmm. Let’s find out.” Her voice slips into a growl. Rose barely manages to stop herself from twitching just from the sound.

Rose is distressed to find that Luisa is as good at drawing out responses from her with her touch as she is with her voice. It’s nothing explicit. Her hands are cool and gentle against Rose’s rapidly overheating flesh vessel as they meander across her face, her horns, down her neck, her chest, her shoulders, her arms.

“How are you holding up?” Luisa murmurs.

“Fine,” Rose says through gritted teeth as she holds her body back from curving into Luisa’s touch. “Don’t feel a thing.”

Luisa buries her face in her neck and chuckles. Rose thinks she must be doing this in spite because the vibrations resonate up her spine. She can’t breathe. Very faint black spots are eating away her vision, like a burning photograph. Is this asthma? Can you spontaneously develop asthma from a pretty girl? Rose would ask the only (former) doctor she knows, if she wasn’t busy trying not to die under her.

And that’s before Luisa stills and carefully presses bites down on a tendon straining in her neck, the vein under it beating itself into a fury.

“You are so beautiful,” Luisa whispers.

Rose makes some sort of strangled noise in the back of her throat in response.

Luisa raises her head to gaze at her, her eyes dark and wanting. Her breath catches as she tilts forward, her lips parted. She stops just before they’re about to touch. They wait there, breathless, at a standstill.

“Luisa,” Rose whispers.

“Yes?”

Just as Rose is about to lift her mouth to kiss her, the oven timer dings.

“I’ve got to check on the eggplant,” Luisa says softly. Rose can feel the words against her lips.

“Uh huh,” Rose wheezes, trying to get her breath back.

Luisa slides off her lap. “I’m impressed by your self-restraint,” she says conversationally, like she didn’t almost kill Rose.

Rose has to deliberately unclench her hands. The armrests are shredded with claw marks.

Luisa purses her mouth in thought. “We’re going to need to get you mittens next time.”

Rose is breathing too heavily to form a reply.

It isn’t until Luisa is about to leave that Rose finds her voice. “Wait, next time?”

Luisa turns to shoot her a smirk over her shoulder, her hair falling over one eye, before she saunters to the kitchen.

Rose leans back heavily in her chair. “This isn’t fair,” she whispers to herself. How is it humanly possible for Luisa to go from innocent sunshine angel to sex kitten in 0.3 seconds? Rose cracks her neck. She thinks she might have gay whiplash.

 

“Well?” Joey asks when Luisa squats in front of the oven and turns on the oven light to look at the eggplant.

Luisa grins at him. “Phase two of my seduction of Rose is well under way.”

“I meant the eggplant, but sure, okay.”

 

True to her word, Luisa manages to convert both Joey and Rose into believers after their first bite of eggplant parmesan.

Joey narrows his eyes. “And you’re telling me there’s absolutely no meat in this.”

“None,” Luisa says smugly.

“But it has meat texture.”

“That’s the magic of eggplant.”

Rose gets this funny look, like she’s trying to hold something back.

“Are you okay? Are you going to be sick?” Luisa asks.

Rose shakes her head. She’s starting to turn red.

Joey rolls his eyes. “Get it over with.”

Luisa shoots him a concerned look. “Is she going to vomit?”

“Worse.”

Finally, Rose says quietly, “I can’t believe no one’s made a dick joke yet. Eggplant? Come on!”

Luisa starts laughing.

“There’s no need for that,” Joey says briskly, helping himself to another portion. “You’re both lesbians.”

“Yeah, but you’ve got to admit it writes itself. Luisa agrees!”

“You’re both adults.”

“Aw lighten up, Joey. You’re never too old for inappropriate humor.”

Joey humphs before he turns to Luisa. “So what else can you do with eggplant?”

Rose has to stifle an honest-to-god giggle.

Luisa has to school her face before she calmly says, “Depends on how much you can choke down.”

Joey throws his hands up. “For the love of god!”

After a fit of cackling, Luisa wipes away tears and says, “What can’t you do?”

Joey points his fork at her. “If this is another dick joke, I swear I’m going to quit right here and now.”

“No, I’m serious. You can make stuff it, fry it, roast it, grill it. Add it to penne alla norma, caponata crostini, pennoni, focaccia, bolognese. And those are the Italian dishes I can name off the top of my head. If you really wanted to go all out, you can delve into Middle Eastern and Asian cuisine, but I haven’t gotten that far.”

Joey nods. “How are they doing in the garden? Do we have enough to last the season?”

“Oh yeah, that won’t be a problem. They’re doing great. Big but not too big. Long and smooth. Firm but very fleshy.”

Rose howls with laughter.

“You’re both insufferable.”

…

For all of Luisa’s grand schemes, their first kiss is strangely anticlimactic. It’s perfect.

An autumn rainstorm rages outside as Luisa and Rose play  _ Life is Strange _ . Well, Rose is playing. Luisa is watching and commenting.

(Luisa had been politely confused that Rose hadn’t ventured into any other video games besides the basic Wii sports franchise.

“You have to play this one,” Luisa had said one day, plunking her PS4 next to Rose’s tv and methodically setting it up.

“I’ve never heard of it,” Rose had mused, turning the case over.

“Your official video game education begins with the most important piece: the gay games.”)

As Rose nears the end of episode 5, Luisa’s commentary dies off.

“Am I doing something wrong?” Rose asks, a little nervous.

“No, of course not. I don’t want to give anything away and if I keep talking I’ll spoil it for you.”

When it comes to the final decision, Rose barely waits for the characters to finish talking before she chooses to save Chloe.

As the end credits roll, Luisa cocks her head. “That’s not the choice I thought you’d make.”

“Why?”

“You always seem so noble, prioritizing the greater good over your own wants.”

“There’s nothing noble about suffering in silence and being miserable when you have a choice in the matter.”

Luisa starts to laugh.

“What?” Rose asks, feeling defensive and self-conscious.

Luisa just leans in and kisses her. Rose freezes up, waiting for some telltale sign of the curse weakening, but when nothing happens, she allows herself to melt into the way Luisa’s mouth moves.

Luisa leans their foreheads together, one hand cupping Rose’s cheek. “You’re so dumb. Take your own damn advice and stop making yourself sad on purpose.”

The revelation makes Rose speechless, which is just as well since there’s no need to talk as they kiss leisurely, accompanied only by the pounding of the rain outside.

…

Joey walks in on them making out enough times in enough places that one day he storms out, saying, “I’m taking an extended vacation! You can give me a call when you two work it out of your systems!”

While Rose frowns after him, mostly embarrassed but also slightly indignant, Luisa wastes no time. She doesn’t even wait for Joey’s truck to start before she jumps, wrapping her legs around Rose’s waist and pulling her into a kiss.

And well, Rose is only (kinda sorta) human. She is nowhere near immune to Luisa’s charms.

Somehow, they manage to find themselves in Rose’s room.

“When did we get here?” Rose asks breathlessly as Luisa rams her into the open door.

“How odd,” Luisa comments breezily before she rips open Rose’s blouse, scattering buttons everywhere.

“Hey! I thought you said you liked that shirt.”

“I do. I just like it better when I’m the one tearing it off.”

“I hope you know how to sew all those buttons back on.”

“That’s for Future Luisa to worry about,” she says, shoving Rose back onto her bed.

“Oh, wait, wait.” Rose clambers to her feet.

Luisa is pretty good at hiding her disappointment, but Rose is better at reading her now.

“I’ll be right back,” she murmurs, pressing a kiss to Luisa’s mouth before she ducks into her closet.

After some rummaging, she reappears. Luisa bites her lip to stop from laughing. “All of this really isn’t necessary just to do the monster mash.”

“What does a dance have to do with anything?” Her words are garbled. Luisa merely raises an eyebrow until Rose gets it. “Oh. Ohhh. Please don’t call it that ever again.”

“Okay, but please take off all of...that.” Luisa gestures to Rose’s head. She’s duct-taped pillows to her horns and stuffed two mouthguards over both sets of fangs. She’s got mittens over both paws and booties on her feet.

Rose pops the mouthguards out for a second, working her jaw. “Protection is important.”

“Absolutely, but not this kind.”

“What’s the difference? They’re both there for your safety.”

“Come here,” she says, wrapping her arms around Rose’s waist and pulling her toward the bed. “Do you know you’re the sweetest, most considerate person I’ve ever slept with?”

“So all of this is okay?”

“Lose the mouthguards. How many times have we made out the last few weeks? And nothing bad has ever happened.”

“Fine.”

At least Luisa waits until Rose sets the spitty set down before she spins, yanking Rose down and straddling her in one smooth motion.

They stare at each other for a long moment, breathing audibly. Rose raises a mittened hand to Luisa’s cheek. “I don’t want to hurt you,” she says softly.

To her surprise, Luisa lets out this dirty chuckle that makes Rose’s spine tingle.

“I’m not going to break,” Luisa whispers, running a hand down Rose’s chest. “Besides,” she adds, her voice going low and husky. “I don’t mind it a little rough.”

Rose, pinned under her, shakes and shakes.

...

Weeks later, while Luisa is watering her rosebush at the front desk, she has a revelation that makes her drop everything and drive to Miami.

“Raf!” Luisa says, banging open the door to his office and flopping down on the sofa, one arm thrown dramatically over her eyes. “I think I’m in love.”

The men in the suits sitting in front of his desk stare at her, and then at each other, and then at Rafael. He clears his throat. “Gentlemen, why don’t we take a fifteen minute break while take care of this emergency.”

He ushers them out with a smile before he rounds on her. “What the hell, Luisa? I was legitimately in the middle of something!”

She peeks at him from under her hand. “Since when? There wasn’t anything on your calendar.”

“It was a spur of the moment sort of thing.”

“You can hardly blame me then.”

“Why can’t you just call ahead of time like everyone else?”

She scowls at him. “I wasn’t aware that I needed an appointment to see my own brother.”

He sighs, sitting on the coffee table to face her. “That’s not what I mean. I’m just saying that maybe you could drop by after business hours, or you know, knocking would be an improvement too.”

“But this is too important! I need to talk this over with someone right now. No one knows me better than you do.”

“I don’t suppose this can wait until my meeting’s over?”

“It won’t take long, I promise.”

He spreads his hands. “Okay, let’s have it.”

“How do I know if I’m actually in love?”

He furrows his brow. “What kind of question is that? You’ve been in love before.”

“Sure. But I have a hard time differentiating between love and like, the honeymoon phase where everything seems perfect until it’s not.” She sighs. “And I really want this to be love.”

“Why? What’s so great about her? Now that she isn’t avoiding you anymore.”

Luisa’s eyes light up. “She’s kind and talented and a good teacher but also willing to learn and patient and she smells really good and she’s got these muscles that could casually crush me so easily and you know how sometimes you can just sit with someone and do nothing and it feels comfortable? We can do that. I love that she’s so soft with me...both in and out of bed.”

“Ew. I don’t need to know that.”

“You should really be more open-minded about sex.”

“I  _ am _ open-minded about sex. I just don’t need to hear about your sex life in particular.”

“She wrestled a gator so it wouldn’t eat me. That’s love, right?”

“No way.”

“Yes way.” In her need to prove Raf wrong, Luisa momentarily forgets that she hasn’t told him about Rose’s unique condition. She pulls up her gallery and hands her phone over.

Raf squints at the screen. It’s a shaky video of Rose hugging a gator while telling Luisa not to take a photo that lasts all of five seconds before the camera shifts to point at the ground. “So I might’ve taken a video instead of a photo. But I think I really capture her beauty.” She kicks her legs in the air and squeals.

He pauses it and zooms in. “Is your girlfriend the gator or Chewbacca?”

“Don’t be an asshole.”

“But she’s…”

“A beast. In bed.”

He frowns. “She’s like seven feet tall! With horns!”

“I know! It’s so sexy!”

“Look, I went with you and put up with your thirst for Venom and I don’t want to kinkshame you or anything, but are you sure she’s safe?”

“Absolutely.”

“How can you be sure?”

“All these months and she’s never hurt me, well except that one time she called me crazy but it’s not anything worse than what you’ve done.  _ And _ then she fought off some unsavory fuckboys. And saved me from a gator. She’s really sweet, once you get past her I-deserve-to-be-alone-and-suffer complex.”

“Hmm.”

“I promise you’ll love her when you meet her.”

“I don’t know if that’s a good idea.”

“Why not? Don’t you want to meet my girlfriend?”

“Does she know you’re dating?”

“Well…I think it’s pretty obvious.”

He sighs.

She stands. “Hold that lecture. I need to go to the bathroom. I’ll be right back.”

When she leaves, he’s watching the clip on loop, that frown still on his face.

…

One night, Rose and Luisa are sprawled out on the couch, reading and eating pizza. Luisa has her head nestled in Rose’s lap. Every once in a while she’ll sneak her hand under Rose’s shirt to scratch at a particular spot that makes Rose kick her leg everytime even though it jostles her head.

“Why do you like doing that so much?” Rose asks after it happens for the sixth time.

“It’s cute. You’re cute.” She closes her book and sits up, kissing Rose and smirking when Rose makes a face at the faint taste of pineapple on her lips. “Now pass the chili flakes.”

Or at least she means to. What comes out is “I love you.”

The worst part is that she doesn’t notice until Rose drops her book. “What?”

“Hmm?”

“What did you say?”

“I love you.” Luisa’s eyes widen. “Oh shit. I meant to say pass the chili flakes.”

Rose hands it over wordlessly, not taking her eyes off Luisa.

She shakes it over her pizza before she gives it back. “It doesn’t have to mean anything if you don’t want it to.”

“Do you mean it?”

She shrugs. “Yeah.”

Rose sits back, her expression one of wonder.

“I’m not expecting you to say it back or anything,” Luisa rushes to assure her. “I mean, that’s how I feel, but it shouldn’t have any bearing on what you feel, okay?”

Rose nods, still dazed. “Okay.”

Luisa cautiously lays back down. There’s slight tension in the room now. Things feel like they’ve shifted, but not necessarily in a bad way.

Still, Luisa doesn’t relax until Rose wordlessly takes her hand and goes back to reading.


	7. Chapter 7

Rose and Luisa lay in bed, facing each other. Even now, Luisa can’t stop herself from reaching out and touching her. Innocent brushes of her fingertips along Rose’s eyebrows, her horns, her lips, her jaw, her throat. Rose stays still, holding Luisa’s gaze, except when she flinches when Luisa’s finger grazes a fang.

“I’m sorry. Does that hurt?”

“No. Sorry, I just...I’m fine if it’s in the moment, but I pause to think about it too much, old habits rear their heads. It’s been a very long time since I’ve been uh, intimate with someone, and never when I looked like this.”

Her tone in the last three words makes Luisa frown. “Why don’t you think you’re beautiful?”

“Why do _you_ think I’m beautiful?”

It’s a few moments before Luisa answers. “I will admit I was initially attracted to you because of your appearance. The whole ensemble: the horns, the teeth, the fur, really does it for me.”

“I’ve only ever seen it as a curse. That’s what the fairy called it.”

“Ah yes, the elusive fairy.”

Rose sighs.

“You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to.”

“No. I think I’m ready.” Rose tells her about the old woman that showed up on her doorstep, asking for shelter. “And I said no, you know, because stranger danger. She offered me a rose but I said no again because a flower is not worth waking up to find you’ve been chopped into pieces by an axe murderer in your sleep.” Luisa nods. “She gave me one more chance to change my mind, and when I didn’t, she threw off her cloak and said, ‘Wrong answer, bitch.’”

Luisa raises her eyebrows. “That’s...definitely not what I was expecting. But then again, I’ve never actually seen a fairy. Maybe they’re all like that?”

“I wouldn’t know. She’s the only one I’ve ever met. She was...tall, thin. Pretty much everything you imagine a fairy being, I guess, to the point of being gaudy. Silver hair, pointy ears, a cloud of sparkles that followed her everywhere. Scrubbing all that glitter out of the foyer took days. Anyway, she told me that for turning her away, my punishment was to be as ugly on the outside as I was on the inside.”

Luisa scoots closer. “But that’s not true. Joey’s said you’re maybe a little rough on the outside, but a good person overall.”

“He likes to see the best in people.”

“He’s not wrong.”

“You don’t know that.”

“Don’t I? If you’d only shown me these soft, sentimental parts these past several months, maybe. But I love you, despite your initial attempts to get rid of me. However ugly you think you are, you’ve never showed me anything monstrous.”

Rose mulls this over. Finally, she says softly, “Not even when I scared off those men?”

“Especially then,” Luisa says, folding her small hands into Rose’s huge ones. “If anything, that’s when I knew you were good. It takes a certain amount of courage to take on such bad odds, not to mention getting shot, for someone you barely knew at the time. You are a better person than most non-beastly people I know, no matter what a sparkly fairy says.”

Luisa is nearly asleep when Rose whispers, “Okay.”

…

They’re reading _The Fault in Our Stars_ this month at book club and while Rose knows that it’s firmly within the young adult romance genre, it doesn’t stop her from crying her eyes out at the end.

Luckily she was behind on reading this week. She finishes it in the car three minutes before book club is about to start instead of at home or even worse, in front of Luisa, who would want to know why. How is she supposed to talk about why she’s trying in front of the girl she’s trying to not fall in love with when she can’t even string together a sentence in front of these ladies?

It’s too early for anyone to be shitfaced and start a brawl so the ladies awkwardly take sips of their drinks while Rose blubbers.

“That stupid cigarette. So goddamn pretentious. But the sentiment, I guess, the whole theme of choosing what gets to hurt us.” She pauses to take a shuddering breath. Carol downs her sherry in one gulp and pours herself another glass. “But being in love? And then dying? I don’t know, I just…” She wails.

“Sorry I’m late,” Jane says as she bustles into the house. She takes one look at Rose sobbing into her huge paws and addresses the rest of them. “You go on ahead. I’ll just take her out front for a bit.”

Jane hauls her to her feet. Rose can’t do anything but follow her. Her eyes are swollen shut.

“Hey, what happened?” Jane asks, pushing her down onto the porch swing.

“Nothing.” She gasps. It’s an unpleasant wet, phlegmy sound. “Just this stupid book.”

Jane digs out a travel pack of kleenex out of her purse and hands it over. Rose nods in thanks.

“What happened in the stupid book?”

Rose summarizes the whole thing between sniffles and hiccups. She thinks the crying is starting to subside until she reaches the very end and bursts into tears again.

“Okay, so you’re sad because...they have cancer. Wait, do you have cancer?”

Rose shakes her head. The crying lessens enough where she can say, “They were in love and then they lost it.”

“Okay, yes,” Jane says. “Very tragic.”

“Luisa told me she loved me,” Rose mumbles.

“ _What?_ ”

Rose nods miserably.

“Why don’t you look happy about it? This is how you break the curse, right?”

Rose shrugs. “Yeah, I guess, but I don’t know, it all seems really overwhelming.”

“Why?”

“It feels like it’s happening too fast.”

“Honey, you’ve been stuck like this for literal years. Are you not ready to be human again?”

“No? Yes. Maybe, I think.”

“Why not? Is it because you’re a self-proclaimed ‘monster’ and you think you deserve to suffer forever because of how you look?”

Rose doesn’t respond.

Jane sighs. “I’m going to have a long talk with that fairy if she ever shows up. Not that you haven’t been a dick a lot of the time in the past, but I’d say you’re pretty decent now and reversing a curse shouldn’t depend solely on earning a romantic partner’s love if you’ve changed for yourself, you know?”

Rose nods slowly. Then she shakes her head.

“Never mind. The question of the hour then is do _you_ love her?”

“No?”

“You don’t seem very sure of that.”

“How am I supposed to know?”

“Does she make your life better?”

“Questionably. It’s a lot more complicated now, that’s for sure.”

Jane rolls her eyes. “Let me simplify it for you: you enjoy her company, and thus having her in your life, yes or no?”

“Yes,” Rose admits grudgingly.

“But the best thing for her would be to stay far away from you?”

“Yes.”

“So you tried driving her away, but she came back for good and now you’re wondering if not saying I love you back will push her away again, therefore eclipsing your selfish desire to keep her in your life by your care for her. That’s love, bitch.”

“No, it’s…”

Jane isn’t listening. She’s now aggressively trying to sing all parts of “I Won’t Say I’m in Love.”

“ _No chance no way I won't say it, no no. You swoon you sigh why deny it oh oh._ Come on, you know you’ve got the perfect voice for Meg. Turn this from a regular old gem into a masterpiece.”

This is a reach since Jane can’t carry a tune to save her life. It does not stop her from trying.

While Rose is trying to figure out if she does indeed love Luisa or not, Jane continues on. “ _Face it like a grown-up. When you gonna own up that you got got got it bad._ ”

“Jane no, listen, it’s not love. Love is supposed to be like being struck by lightning. This is just like...cozy, drizzly days inside next to a fireplace content in sharing each other’s company without expectations.”

Jane snorts. “You are such a romantic.”

“That’s not the point! I’m not in love with her!”

“You wrestled a gator for her.”

“Because I didn’t want her to get eaten!”

“By anything but you, you mean.”

Rose rolls her watery eyes as Jane cackles.

“But for real,” she says, wiping tears of mirth from her eyes. “When can I meet her? I need to see how the two of you interact before I can give you my formal judgment.”

“What formal judgment? It’s obvious you already think I’m in love with her.”

Jane smirks. “Prove me wrong then.”

“Wednesday, 5pm.”

Jane opens her calendar app and taps a few items before she says, “I think I can pencil you in.”

“Don’t act like you’re the one doing me a favor when you’re so invested in my love life.”

 

Rose is jumpy all day Wednesday.

“Are you okay? If you’re this nervous about us meeting, maybe it’s not a good idea,” Luisa says, reaching up to scratch behind one of Rose’s ears.

Despite her nerves, Rose’s shoulders unclench. “I hate it when you do that,” she grumbles.

“What, scratch you? Why?”

“How am I supposed to brood when you do that?”

Luisa laughs. “What is there to brood over? I’m just meeting your best friend. We both care about you. We’re going to get along swimmingly.”

“I’m like 83% sure you’ll like each other, but what if you don’t? I don’t want to choose between the two of you.”

The knocker raps against the front doors.

“I still don’t think you have anything to worry about,” Luisa says as she skips to the foyer.

Rose frowns when she opens the door. “What are you doing? You’ve never knocked here in your life.”

Jane grins. “I thought I’d give your girlfriend a good impression.” She pushes Rose out of the way to get to Luisa. “Hi! I’m Jane. Official best friend to Rose, the angsty cursed loner with a furry problem.”

Luisa struggles not to laugh as Rose says, “I don’t think that means what you think it means.”

Luisa shakes Jane’s hand enthusiastically. “Luisa, of course. I’ve heard so much about you!”

Jane nods in a very authoritative manner. “Good, good. So naturally, you know that means I have to test you.” She pulls out a KitKat bar from her purse. “How do you eat this?”

“Easy.” Luisa unwraps it and bites a huge chunk right out of it.

Rose grinds her teeth at how wrong it looks.

Jane gives Luisa a high-five. “I like her.”

“You’re both so backwards,” Rose grouses, even as Luisa breaks off a proper piece of the bar and sticks it between her fangs as a peace offering.

Despite her words, a weight has lifted off Rose’s heart as Jane and Luisa head into the house arm and arm.

 

About two hours later, after a rousing game of Settlers of Catan (and in which Luisa thoroughly thrashes both Rose and Jane to the latter’s dismay), Jane gets up and shrugs on her jacket. “This has been a lovely evening, but I’ve got an appointment in half an hour.”

“I’m about to win, though!” Luisa pouts. “Can’t you stick around for a few more minutes?”

Jane leans over the table and smirks at her. “One thing you need to know about me, Luisa: I’m a heartbreaker.”

Rose rolls her eyes as Jane winks.

“Come on,” Rose says, dragging Jane out by the arm. “I’ll walk you out.”

She twists in her grasp and waves at Luisa. “It was great finally meeting you! You and Rose have a good thing going.”

Rose steers her to her car, where she promptly drops her arm. She stuffs her hands into her pockets and fidgets as Jane takes her time fishing her keys out of her purse. “Did you mean that?”

“Mean what?”

“Do Luisa and I have a good thing going?”

Jane gives her a look that screams offended. “Rose, we’ve been friends for the last...has it been fifteen? No, seventeen years. You know by now I don’t say things I don’t mean. And just watching the soft way you two look at each other, especially the pride radiating off of you as she completely overran the island, and how you’re so comfortable around each other makes me really happy, and a little lonely and wistful, but mostly happy for you. Hate to say it my dude, but if you’re not in love, you’re very close to it.”

“I don’t know.” She shrugs uneasily. “Things are going so well so me right now, and I keep expecting to shatter everything at any moment.”

Jane pauses. “Have you thought that maybe you deserve good things, no matter what some fairy says?”

Rose doesn’t reply.

“Just something to think about,” Jane says before she gets into her car. “See you this weekend, you nerd.”

Rose watches her drive off, frowning in contemplation.

...

A few days later, Rose walks in on Luisa standing in the middle of the formal dining room, looking around intently, one hand over her mouth in thought.

“What are you up to?” The dining room is hardly ever used, especially since Rose never has company. Meals are usually taken in the kitchen.

“Do you realize you have amazing marble flooring in here?”

“Yes?” It’s hard to forget when her claws click with every step.

“If we just moved the dining set out of here, there would be a ton of space.”

“For what?”

“A repurposed ballroom.”

Rose scrunches up her face in distaste. “Why?”

“Because we’re gonna have a dance.”

“Why?” she asks again, aghast.

Luisa wraps her arms around Rose’s waist and looks up at her with big, beseeching hazel eyes. “Please? For me?”

Rose resists for all of thirty seconds before she huffs. “Fine.”

“Yay!” Luisa leaps up and hugs Rose around her neck. “You’ll like it, I promise.”

Rose starts to retort but it dies in her throat when Luisa presses a kiss to her nose and runs off.

“Where are you going?”

“Cleaning supplies!” Luisa calls back. “Wouldn’t it great if your secluded chateau came with its own cursed cleaning crew, but among all the secret passages and gator wrestling and transformative curses, that would be implausible.”

It takes a minute before Rose says, “Are you mocking me?”

“Teasing maybe, but never mocking.”

 

It takes a days finding time around everything else before all the furniture is moved out of the way and the room as a whole is polished to a shine. While Rose is trying to dust the chandelier without sending the whole thing crashing down on their heads (a task that requires more concentration that you’d think), Luisa climbs onto her shoulders and pulls out a tape measure.

“Luisa, do you mind?” Rose asks as she measures the width of her shoulders. “Or better yet, can you reach the chandelier while you’re up there?”

“Sorry, I’m in the middle of something. It’ll only take a second.” She dangles off one shoulder and drops one end of the tape measure to the floor. “Almost done.” She takes a few more measurements before she runs off again.

Rose sighs as the chandelier sways threateningly above her head.

For the next few weeks, Rose keeps walking in on Joey bent over what looks like a canary yellow circus tent, a needle and thimble in one hand and squinting at his stitches through thick glasses. Every time this happens, Joey will squeak and then run out of the room, dragging it along with him. Honestly, it’s a complete role reversal of when he kept walking in on her and Luisa kissing. She wonders idly if he’s making out with it, whatever it is.

 

On the day of the dance, Rose sequesters herself in her room, only grudgingly admitting she needs Joey’s help when she finds herself gripping a pair of scissors about to give herself an impromptu trim.

He tuts. “Never a good idea.”

“I know,” she says, folding her arms and slouching on her stool as Joey flits around her. “I don’t know why I’m so nervous over some dance that’s taking place in my own home. We’re the only ones who are going to be there. She’s not going to laugh at me.”

“There’s nothing wrong with wanting to look nice for your date. Arms up.”

“What for—?” she asks even as she lifts her arms.

He slides the canary yellow circus tent over her head, except it’s not a circus tent at all. It’s a…

“When did you have time to do this?” Rose asks in a hushed voice.

“Stand up,” Joey says briskly, tugging at the skirts so they sit straight. “Miss Luisa thought it would be cute if the dance was _Beauty and the Beast_ themed and you’d wear the famous yellow dress. It wasn’t easy but she finally tracked down something that resembled it and I’ve been spending the last couple of weeks making alterations based on the measurements she took.”

Rose can’t think of anything to say that will properly convey her gratitude. Instead what comes out of her mouth is, “I thought you were making out with it.”

“Considering how much work I put into this dress, I think it would be well within my rights to make out with it without your judgment, thank you very much. Now sit back down. We’re not done yet. I’m not 100% sure how to go about this, but I did watch a lot of makeup tutorials and a man with 13 million Youtube subscribers can’t be wrong, right?” He holds up a bag of MAC cosmetics. “I had to get you new everything. Just touching your old makeup is unhygienic at this point. Have you ever seen an old, balding man buy a ton of makeup? A lot of stares.”

“Joey, I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

“Waste away and die, probably,” he says matter-of-factly, wielding the curling iron in one hand and hairspray in the other.

“Thanks.”

Joey works in silence. He sighs as he turns off the curling iron. “Now comes the real test.” He frowns. “We can probably skip all the foundation and concealer steps because of your, you know, fur, right?”

She shrugs. “You’re the expert here. I’m not the one who’s watching hours of Youtube makeup tutorials.”

“Okay, that means we start with...eyebrows. This will only take a few seconds since you’ve been blessed with amazing brows.”

“Stop it, you’re making me blush,” Rose says, deadpan.

“Good because applying blush to your fur is probably not a good idea.”

“Not that I’m not touched, because I am, but is this much effort required, especially for such an informal thing?” she asks as Joey brushes five shades of brilliant eyeshadow on her eyelids.

“Miss Luisa’s exact words were, ‘treat her like a princess.’ I really don’t have any wiggle room. Now hush for a second or this glitter is going to go everywhere.”

Which really wasn’t needed because for the second time in as many minutes, Rose is again rendered speechless.

“Okay now look up.” After a few skilled swipes with the mascara wand, he leans back to survey his work. “Not too shabby, if I do say so myself. Maybe a little more on your right eye. And the finishing touch.” He uncaps a tube of dark cherry lipstick, although it’s probably called Ever Dusk or Plum Avalanche.

A few spritz of setting spray and Joey steps back so Rose can have a proper look at herself in the mirror. She blinks at her reflection. Although her transformation isn’t as drastic without contouring, her eyes _are_ striking. “You learned all this from a few hours of Youtube tutorials?”

“Guess an old dog can learn new tricks. Now let’s see if your date’s ready.”

Joey vanishes as Rose sticks her head out from her doorway. She spots Luisa pacing in the foyer in a replica of the Beast’s blue tailcoat, her hair pulled back in a braid. Her nerves multiply exponentially.

But before she can get cold feet, Joey turns on the house-wide surround sound system. Both Rose and Luisa startle. The first strains of “Beauty and the Beast” start.

“Oh come on, Joey, don’t you think this is pushing it a bit?” Rose asks, slightly exasperated.

“No wiggle room,” he says, giving her a little push. “Now go on. Don’t keep your lady waiting.”

Rose swallows before she descends the stairs, feeling very foolish. But Luisa gazes up at her in wonder like a boy in a romantic comedy and that’s almost enough to make her forget about her self-consciousness.

“Hi,” she says shyly, twisting her skirts in her fists.

“Hi,” Luisa says, still looking a little dazed. “You’re always beautiful, but by god, Joey really outdid himself today.”

“Thank you!” he calls from upstairs.

“As do you,” Rose says, straightening Luisa’s lapels.

“Shall we?” Luisa offers Rose her arm and escorts her to the “ballroom.”

“Uh, small problem,” Rose says, as Luisa takes one of her hands and pulls her in with her other on her lower back. “I can’t dance.”

“That’s okay. I’ve got ten years of dancing experience. Just follow my lead. You’re in good hands.”

Despite Rose’s trepidation, Luisa proves an excellent teacher as she guides her through the basic steps of the waltz. By the end of the song, they’re gliding over the marble floor.

After a few songs, Joey reappears in a tuxedo. “Mind if I cut in?”

Luisa does cede but she gives him an I’m-watching-you gesture. “Don’t hog her the whole night.”

“I’ll try to resist.”

As he spins her around the room, Rose feels a startling contentment buoy in her lungs. Having a proper event where two of her favorite people in the world have put in extra effort to make her feel special is making it hard for her to swallow.

She leans in. “Joey...I think I’m happy,” she whispers timidly.

“There’s no reason to sound so scared, Rosie,” he replies, leaning the top of his head against her jaw.

“But what if I lose it?”

“Happiness isn’t something you gain and have forever. There’ll be good days and bad days. But I’d say you should hold onto the people that make you happy,” he says before he passes her back to Luisa.

Luisa tries to teach Rose how to cha-cha, but Rose literally almost passes out seeing Luisa’s hips move like that so they stick to the more standard dances like the waltz and foxtrot.

A slew of songs later, Rose and Luisa go out to the balcony to catch a bit of a breeze.

“I have to say, I had my doubts when you first proposed the idea, but it turned out better than I thought it would.”

Luisa grins, her skin flushed with the heat. “Does that mean I was right?”

Rose sighs. “I guess.”

“Awww, that’s the most romantic thing you could say.”

Rose raises an eyebrow. “Really? Not ‘pass the chili flakes’?”

And as she watches Luisa’s nose crinkle as she laughs, fireflies dancing around their heads, Rose realizes that she is indeed, in love.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Check out this [manip](https://aparticularbandit.tumblr.com/post/182104765064/joey-vanishes-as-rose-sticks-her-head-out-from) by the crazy talented aparticularbandit!


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rose is a dumbass

Contrary to popular opinion, Rose is distraught over this revelation.

She pretends that nothing’s changed, but in the days after the ball, both Luisa and Joey notice something’s amiss.

“Is everything okay?” Luisa asks sleepily one day, curled against Rose in a gently swaying hammock in the backyard. The heavy scent of roses lingers in the air as the sun sets. The scene is so perfect Rose wants to cry.

“Yeah.”

“Mmm. You seem...morose and skittish.” She yawns. “Are you sure you’re okay? We can talk about it if you want.”

Rose presses a kiss to her hair and tries to give her a real smile. “No, but thank you. I’m fine. Everything’s fine.”

Everything is not fine.

 

Joey is a lot more blunt about it.

“What’s wrong with you? You haven’t been this mopey since NSYNC broke up.”

Rose hisses. “I thought we agreed that we would never bring up that dark period in my life ever again.”

“It’s been nearly twenty years.”

“There’s still hope! They just got a Hollywood star last year!”

He sighs through his nose. “I’m going to wisely choose to keep my opinion on that to myself. So what’s the problem this time?”

“Nothing.”

“You know that you’re going to stew in your own misery until you take it out on everyone else if you don’t get it out in the open right away. Don’t let it fester.”

“I do not.”

“You do too. Is it that Marco from work? Is he stressing you out?” He cracks his knuckles. “Do you need me to send him a message?”

“Joey, he’s not worth it. Besides it’s nothing I can’t handle myself.”

“So why are you upset?”

“Forget about it.”

They work in silence for a few minutes, Rose sudsing up the dishes while Joey chops up onions before he speaks up again. “Are you and Jane fighting?”

“No.”

“Are you and Miss Luisa fighting?”

Rose drops her head and sighs. “No…”

But she must sound uncertain enough because Joey says, “Don’t do anything stupid.”

She immediately bristles, the ruff of fur around her neck puffing up. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“You do have a bad habit of overthinking and panicking whenever you’re in a good place. It would make sense, especially since you’ve seemed content since the ball. And especially since Miss Luisa’s said she loves you.”

Rose juts her chin out stubbornly. She hates that he knows her so well. “Nope. Those aren’t the reasons.”

“I know you know that I know you well enough to know when you’re lying.”

For a few minutes, the only sounds are the running water and the steady rhythm of the knife against the cutting board. The silence builds and builds until it’s stifling.

“Fine. Fine! You’re right. Are you happy? I don’t know what you want me to say,” she snaps. She scrubs at a spot of stubborn blackened grease on a pan vigorously.

“I just want you to be happy.”

She doesn’t say anything. Her shoulders are tensing.

He goes on. “I want you to stop sabotaging yourself. Why not leave things as they are? Why not see where they go? Why do you have to second guess when things turn out well for you? What is it you’re afraid of? Why are you so dedicated to be unhappy? What’s holding you back from your own happiness?”

She doesn’t have any answers. She pulls her lips back from her teeth. “Please stop,” she whispers, but so softly that Joey doesn’t hear.

“She loves you. There’s nothing to analyze. Nothing to dissect. Nothing to second guess. You’ve let her into your life and she’s seen you at your best and your worst and every stage in between and hasn’t left. She hasn’t pressured you to return her feelings. What is there to be scared of? That you might love her back? That something might actually—”

She whips around, her claws digging into the countertop behind her to steady herself. “BECAUSE I’M UNLOVABLE!” she roars.

Joey shakes, directly in the path of her outburst, but he collects himself before he says, “Well, I’ve obviously failed you if you think that.”

“You...what?”

“Failed you.” She stares at him for a minute as he continues to chop the onions before he elaborates. His eyes seem moist but she’s not sure if it’s the conversation or the onions. “I wanted to show you that it didn’t matter what you looked like, especially these past years with your condition. That no one who cared was going to treat you differently. But if you think you’re unlovable because of the way you look, then I guess I didn’t do a very good job.”

“No, that’s not what I mean. I know that you and Jane love me, no matter what. It’s too late for you. You two are stuck with me whether you like it or not. Platonically, I’m good. But romantic styles? Maybe it’s better if I sequester myself away like a Regency era old maid and grow die alone.”

He rolls his eyes. “The only thing that would make it more theatrical is if you succumbed to tuberculosis.”

“That’s an excellent idea. How do I go about contracting tuberculosis?”

“Honestly. All this because you’re ashamed of the way you look? Even though Miss Luisa loves you the way you are?”

“It’s not even about this...whole thing,” she says, pointing at her face. “It’s more about who I am as a person. Luisa...deserves better than what I can give her. She  _ says _ she loves me now but this all feels like a dream. And one day she’ll wake up and realize that this whole thing was a mistake. One day she’ll find my selfishness and neediness and moodiness repulsive instead of endearing. All I’m doing is holding her back. I will stifle her like kudzu.”

Joey sets the knife down very deliberately and takes a few steps toward her. When she doesn’t move, he puts his arms around her, tucking his head under her chin. “Oh Rosie, but she loves you  _ now _ . Don’t you think she knows what she’s getting into?”

She hates that her voice breaks when she whispers, “Love alone isn’t enough. She has this whole universe inside her and I’m a puddle in comparison. One day, she’ll understand that she’s much too good for me. I can’t be what she needs.  _ I’m _ not enough.”

“But you’re what she wants.”

She digs her claws harder into the countertop and swallows hard, hot tears blurring her vision. “She’s stubborn.”

“Are we talking about you or her?”

“Hilarious,” she says, wiggling out of his embrace, but she takes his offered handkerchief. She swipes at her eyes angrily. “But if I bring it up in conversation, she’ll insist that everything will be fine and she’ll try to force things to be okay when they’re actually falling apart and it’s just...easier to cut things off now. Save the magnified anguish down the line.”

He sighs. “I think you’re making a lot of assumptions.”

“They're calculated risks.”

“What risks? All this is is pushing someone away before they have a chance to hurt you.”

“Exactly. A calculated risk. I’ve trapped you and Jane. You’re my family. You can’t leave me. But everyone else, including Luisa, is a wildcard. An unknown variable. And I might not be happy without her, but I’ll live.”

He shakes his head. “Do you even hear yourself? You’re forfeiting your own happiness on the slightest possibility it won’t work out.”

“I know what I’m doing.”

“Remember when I said your life would be so much easier if you just listened to me? This is one of those times. That being said,” he says, raising his voice when she tries to interject, “you’re an adult and this is your love life. I don’t agree with it, but I won’t stop you if this is really what you want.”

“I do. I mean, I think so.”

He gives her a skeptical look. “You’d better sound more convincing than that if you’re going to break that poor girl’s heart. Or...you could save yourself the inevitable heartache and just not.”

“Trust me, this is for the better. For the both of us.”

Joey hums in a doubtful sort of way.

…

Rose spends two agonizing days contemplating how to approach breaking up with Luisa, steadfastly ignoring the growing dread that gnaws at her insides. This is like cauterizing a wound. It’ll hurt like a bitch, but in the end, it’ll save Luisa. She’s setting her free. She’s doing her a favor.  _ Stop rationalizing it to make yourself feel better about it _ , a little voice that sounds suspiciously like Joey whispers. She ignores it.

Luisa finds her in the garden tending to the wilting rainflowers. “Any news of when we’ll be getting some rain?” she asks, kneeling next to Rose and inspecting them.

There’s been a drought for the last few weeks. The swamp itself is turning dry and cracked.

“No,” Rose says, sitting back and wetting her lips. “Luisa…”

“It’d be such a shame to have all our hard work go to waste, but I’m not going to upset the delicate ecological balance in the swamp by using up all the available water just to keep the garden green.”

“Yeah, but…”

“I suppose I should’ve done more research on drought-resistant plants instead of just planting things willy-nilly but in my defense, I was told these were all native. Was it true? Hard to say.”

“Luisa, please…”

“Although I don’t think I remember when we had a drought last this long, do you? It shouldn’t be a problem, considering how much rain we get a year, but you know, with global warming and everything, which is why we need to be saving the rainforest and all the other diverse habitats, but will we? It seems we’re more invested in comfort and money. Of course, I can say that as a relatively well-off first-world citizen. I’m sure it doesn’t seem like there’s any other way to survive than by clear cutting rainforest in order to ranch when you’re barely making it by in Brazil.”

Rose’s chest hurts. It feels like she can’t breathe. Is it possible to trigger a heart attack through heartbreak? But she needs to do this. The longer she spends with Luisa, the more likely she is to see through her. “Luisa!”

“Yes?”

“I need to tell you something.”

“Okay.” Luisa plucks one of the rainflowers and tucks it behind Rose’s ear. “What is it?”

Rose closes her eyes and sighs, her expression pained. Luisa’s not going to make this easy for her. “Let’s go inside.”

In the kitchen, Rose pours them both a glass of water. She leans on the counter and sighs again, pulling on her mane.

“Are you okay?”

“Yes.” Rose straightens up. “It’s just I…” She swallows and fiddles with her glass. Luisa regards her with curiosity, her head cocked. “So we’ve been together for months now and you love me and I, uh…” She sighs again and decides to bite the bullet. “I think we should break up.”

Out of all the possible scenarios that Rose had prepped for (one of which was Luisa throwing her water on her, and then chucking the glass at her as well for good measure), the one she didn’t anticipate was that Luisa wouldn’t say anything at all, and instead just stare hard at the floor. But Rose can see how she curls into herself.

It’s several minutes before Luisa says, “Was it something I did?”

“No! You didn't do anything wrong.”

Luisa nods. “That’s okay. I’ve scared off more than one girlfriend with how much a trainwreck I am.”

“No, you’re…” Rose casts about for words that can accurately describe Luisa and can only come up with, “You’re absolutely perfect.”

She looks up. Tears have beaded in her eyelashes. “So why…?”

Rose’s fingers twitch with the urge to reach out and comfort her. But that will ruin everything. So she tries to crack a joke. “Would it be cliche of me to say it’s not you, it’s me?”

Luisa gives a weak chuckle. “Yes.”

Rose wavers. Part of her wants to fall to her knees and take it all back, beg for forgiveness for making Luisa’s face contort like that. But she musters her willpower and soldiers on.

“We could never work out.” Her throat closes up around her next words. She swallows hard before she can get them unstuck. “I don’t love you.”

“Th-that’s fine. I’m not looking for anything you’re not willing to share.” Her voice even sounds like she’s on the verge of tears but trying very hard not to show it.

“Luisa, I’m not going to string you along anymore. You see this going somewhere and I...I don’t.”

“Oh.”

There’s a pregnant pause. If Rose strains, she thinks she can hear Luisa’s heart shattering. Her own is not far behind.

It’s clear Luisa is losing the battle against trying not to cry. Rose hates herself for the instinctive urge to hold her but she hates herself more for being the one to hurt her.

Luisa’s voice is noticeably wobbly when she asks, “So what now? Can we still be friends?”

“I think maybe a clean break is better,” Rose says gently even though everything in her is screaming for her to change her mind.

Luisa nods. “Okay.” She takes a breath. “So I guess I’ll be seeing myself out then.”

Rose walks her out to the entryway. “Did you...did you leave anything you need to take with you?”

“No, I don’t think so.”

Rose says rooted to the spot, but she does not refuse herself the luxury of drinking her in, memorizing her every line. This is the last time she’ll see her.

Luisa hesitates before she leaves, one hand on the doorknob. “Are...are you sure?”

_ No. _

“Yes.” There’s a beat before adds, “I’m sorry.”

“Okay.” A single tear has broken free and is trailing its way down one cheek. There’s nothing Rose wants more in that moment than to wipe it away. “Goodbye, Rose,” she says, sounding just as unsure as she had when she’d said it for the first time the morning after Rose had let her stay.

“Drive safe,” Rose says.

The door clicks shut.

Joey enters the foyer from the kitchen, holding a mug of coffee. “I hope that was the right decision,” he says before he takes a sip.

“It was,” she says. “It is.”

But it still feels like a mistake when she hears Luisa’s car bump its way down the path back to civilization, knowing that she’s leaving for good.

…

Weeks pass.

Luisa spends all her free time alternating between crying, laying in bed, and watching trashy tv, sometimes all three at once. Breakups always hit her hard, especially when she’s sure it’s love.

She’s keeping it together in public, although barely. She hasn’t started sobbing at the front desk yet, but it’s getting dangerously close.

(One of the guests had asked her if she was okay because her eyes were puffy even though it’d been a good twelve hours since she’d cried. And the concern had almost gotten her going again.)

She doesn’t even have the energy to tolerate Juicy. Every time she sees her coming, she’ll put up the back in five sign and slip out the back door, or if she’s not fast enough, just hide under the desk until Juicy gets bored enough to leave, which thankfully is usually only a few minutes at the very most.

After a solid two weeks of sobbing on and off, Luisa calls in reinforcements. She knows herself well enough to know that this could turn into something worse if she doesn’t get help.

“Hey Raf,” she says in a voicemail, trying to keep the words intelligible through her ugly gasps as she cries. “I’m not feeling very good. Can you call me back?”

Rafael, for all of his faults, never takes chances when it comes to Luisa’s mental health. Not after the first time.

A few minutes later, he calls back. “Luisa? Are you okay?”

“Yeah.”

“Really?”

“I’m not sure.”

“Okay, sit tight. I’m on my way up. Can you keep yourself safe for the next...two hours?”

“It’s nothing like that. I’m just going through a bit of rough patch.”

“I’m still coming to see you. Ben and Jerry’s?”

She starts crying again.

“Luisa?! For real, are you going to be okay for the next two hours?”

“Yes. I’m just really glad you’re my brother.” Then his words register. “Wait, it takes three and a half hours to get here.”

“What’s the point of having a Maserati if you’re not gonna speed recklessly every once in a while?”

“Don’t get pulled over.”

“Have a little faith in me.”

“I’ll have more faith in you if you bring me a pint of Oat of this Swirled.”

“Ugh, I forgot you have the worst taste in ice cream.”

“Says Mr. Red Velvet Cake.”

“It’s a classic and you know it.”

“Mmhmm.”

“I’ll go pick up your gross ice cream now. See you in a bit?”

“Sounds good.”

Even a minute conversation with Rafael lifts her spirits somewhat. She curls up on her side on her bed and lets herself drift off for a bit. Usually she’d be in the middle of a shift but she changed her schedule around this week to miss Juicy’s primetime lurking.

Rafael doesn’t know that though, which is why a little under two hours later, he heads straight for the front desk, only to find Ralph manning it.

“Where’s Luisa? Isn’t this her shift?”

“Sick,” a voice says before Ralph can respond.

Raf turns to see a woman slouched in an armchair.

“Oh, are you a...friend of hers?”

“I’m Juicy. Doubtless she’s told you about me.”

“Ah,” he says, nodding. “Yes, she has.”

“And who are you?”

“I’m Rafael, her brother.”

Juicy gives him a once over. “She’s never mentioned you and we're very good friends. She tells me everything.”

“Well...I was in the area and I thought I’d stop by, especially since she’s sick.”

She sighs dramatically and folds her arms, slouching even further into the armchair. She glares at the potted rosebush proudly displayed on the desk. “It’s like the forces of the universe are conspiring to keep us apart.”

“Uh-huh...” he says, in that way that means that he doesn’t know what to say in response to this information but he feels like he should say something.

“First it’s that mysterious girlfriend of hers, and now she’s gone everytime I want to tell her about the extraordinary feats I’ve been up to.”

“Wait, she told you about her girlfriend?”

Juicy narrows her eyes at him. “What do you know about her?”

“Not much. What do  _ you _ know about her?”

“I just know that her name’s Rose. And that she lives about an hour away. And she gave Luisa those roses.” She points at the offending plant. “Although, I’m not sure it’s a healthy relationship.”

Raf frowns as he takes the armchair across from her. “What do you mean? I thought she seemed happy.”

“Well,” Juicy starts, with all the relish of someone dishing good gossip to a captive audience. “I was worried about her safety. So I looked up some warning signs of abuse. It was hard to apply a lot of them since I haven’t seen them together but one that really rang true was control over work. Ever since she’s been seeing this Rose, she’s cut way back on her hours. It’s like Rose doesn’t want her making her own money. Maybe she’s controlling her finances. And then isolation from friends and family. Luisa lives here, and I hardly see her anymore. We used to have long, in-depth discussions about hunting and then almost overnight, poof. She was nowhere to be found. Have you seen her as often since she met Rose?”

He shrugs, unconvinced. “No, but I’m not sure that’s anything to be worried about.”

“Here’s the kicker though.” She pauses for dramatic effect. “Then she started showing up to work with barely concealed bruises.”

(This, for the record, was true. Luisa wasn’t lying about liking it a little rough. Although Rose was always hesitant about leaving marks, Luisa was very cavalier about it.

“Maybe Juicy will see,” she’d mused once to Rose as she was getting dressed, inspecting her neck in the vanity mirror. “Maybe she’ll back off when she sees that I really am in a relationship.”)

Of course, Raf, knowing exactly what Rose looks like, jumps to the conclusion that Rose is mauling his sister. “Oh my god. She needs to be stopped.”

Juicy nods. “That’s exactly what I’ve been saying. But Luisa is so secretive about her, I can’t find anything out about her.”

He bites his lip, deliberating for a moment, before he takes out his phone and pulls up Luisa’s video. “This is Rose.”

Juicy gasps, her eyes glittering. “Some of the boys were talking about a rumor they’d heard. There have been huge tracks found by a country club there. And a swamp monster almost killed some of their cousins months ago but I just thought they were high since you know, it’s Florida. But you're sure this is real? Where did you get this?”

“Yeah. Luisa took a video and showed me. I sent it to myself from her phone.”

“It’s hideous.” A beat. “I need its head stuffed for my collection.”

“We need to stop her before she hurts Luisa again.”

“You’re in luck, pal. You happen to be talking to the best hunter this side of the Mississippi. Give me half an hour to round up my boys and we’ll be able to put it down like the rabid beast it is.”

“How are we going to find her though? Could your friends retrace their steps?”

“Nah. They tried a few times afterwards, but they said that dense fog rolled in everytime and they couldn’t get their bearings at all.”

“What are we going to do then? Are we just going to drive around the neighboring counties until we stumble upon the right swamp?”

“No, I’ve got something better. I bugged Luisa's car months ago. It always fritzes out before I can get a definite lock on her destination but it should get us pretty close. And then the boys can guide us the rest of the way.”

“Okay, you get ready.” He stands up. “I need to go talk to Luisa.”

“I need to make some calls anyway. Meet me at the steakhouse down the road in twenty minutes. If you’re late, we’re leaving without you.”

“I’ll be there.”

 

“Hey!” Luisa says when she pulls open her cabin door. “Where’s my ice cream?”

“No ‘thanks Raf,’ no ‘it’s nice to see you again,’ no ‘you’re the best thing in my life’?”

“Don’t be such a diva. Besides, I got all that sappy stuff out of my system over the phone.” She makes grabby hands. “But first, ice cream.”

He sighs as he pulls out the two pints. She grabs spoons from a drawer and pats the space next to her. They sit on the floor, leaning up against her bed as they plunge their spoons into their respective pints.

They don’t speak for a few spoonfuls, the muted tv the only sound in the background.

“How are you really doing?” Raf asks quietly.

“Better now, but it comes and goes. I spent all Thursday crying. Friday was okay, only a few tears. Saturday was another waterworks day.”

“Did it just come on all at once? Or was there something that triggered it?”

“Rose dumped me.”

“WHAT?”

“I mean, I should’ve seen it coming. I know I’m a little much.”

“She said that? Where does she live? I’m gonna beat her up.”

Luisa snorts. “She’ll rip you in half. But no, she didn’t say that. I love her and she just...doesn’t feel the same way. It was very amicable in terms of breakups. No cheating or screaming or thrown objects.”

But Raf is already riled up, and this information doesn’t help. “That doesn’t give her an excuse to make you cry for days on end.”

She nudges him with a shoulder. “As touched as I am about this whole protective brother thing, it’s not a big deal. I’ll get over it. It’s no one’s fault.”

“She hurt you and she needs to pay.”

“Whoa Raf, rein it in. Where was all this when I called it off with Allison?”

“She didn’t abuse you!”

“Excuse me? Where did you hear that?”

“Your friend, Juicy. She’s worried about you.”

“My what? Juicy? I told you about her. We’re not friends. She’s just creepy and pushy. And apparently making things up now.”

“No, she said that she saw marks on you. And Rose was controlling how much you could work and see other people.”

“She did no such thing! Okay, yes to the marks, but I wanted them. But not that other stuff!”

“Luisa, I know that you’re too close to see it, but trust me, you were in an abusive relationship.”

“I think I’d be a better judge of that.”

“Maybe you’ll be able to see it after a few years, but we’ll take care of it.”

Luisa’s eyes widen. “What are you talking about? Who’s we?”

“Juicy and me and her crew. We’ll make Rose pay.” He checks his watch. “Speaking of which, I need to get going if I’m going to make it.”

She grabs his wrist as he starts to get up. “Even if that was the case, which it isn’t, what kind of solution is more violence?”

“She won’t hurt anyone again.”

“She didn’t hurt anyone to begin with!”

He pries her hand off. “You wouldn’t understand, seeing someone you love abused. Juicy and I are going to make it right.”

“Juicy doesn’t care about me! The second she sees Rose she’s just going to kill her because of how she looks!”

“Would that really be so bad?”

“What is  _ wrong _ with you? How can you escalate from just beating her up to killing her within a matter of minutes?”

He doesn’t say anything.

“How are you even going to find her?”

“Juicy put a tracker on your car. And cousins of her friends were attacked by Rose.”

“What? When—” But then Luisa’s face pales, suddenly remembering taking her grandmother a get well package and Juicy lurking in the parking lot next to her car. “Oh my god. Raf, don’t you see she’s the dangerous one here?”

“I have to do this.”

“No, you fucking don’t! No one says you have to kill an innocent woman because you’re angry!”

“An innocent woman?” He snorts. “She’s a monster.”

She realizes that he won’t be able to see past Juicy’s blatant lies and his own prejudice, for now at least. “I’m sure we’ll laugh about this one day,” she says in a deadly calm voice.

“I sure hope—”

But he doesn’t get to finish his sentence. She whacks him in the temple with her spoon, not hard enough to induce unconsciousness, but just enough to stun him and give him one hell of a headache. He goes down. She leaps over him and bolts for the door.

She grabs the enchanted rose and pauses only to check her car for the bug (she rips it from under her bumper and crushes it under her boot heel), before she hurtles into her car and throws it into reverse. She guns it out of the parking lot, swerving around several cars on the road to get onto the highway.

She’s nearly sobbing with panic as she dials Joey’s number. “Joey! You need to warn Rose. You need to run! They’re coming!”

“What’s going on? Who’s coming?”

“Hunters! It's all my fault! They know about Rose! They’re going to kill her. You need to get out of there!”

There’s a beat of silence before Joey says, “I knew this was going to happen one day. I understand. Stay where you are. Rose and I will take care of this.”

“I’m not going to stand by while Juicy and her lackeys—”

But Joey’s already hung up.

Luisa tosses her phone onto the passenger seat next to the rosebush and floors it.


	9. Chapter 9

Joey’s footfalls are heavy as he climbs the stairs. Rose is in her room, splayed out on her back on the floor next to her record player, listening to Taylor Swift.

_ Tell her how you must have lost your mind, when you left her all alone and you never told her why. And that’s how it works, that’s how you lost the girl... _

She’s been like this for days on end. Joey’s been trying to give her some space as per her request, but this is important enough to interrupt her.

“Mistress, hunters are coming. What’s our plan of attack?” he asks, hovering in the doorway.

“Nothing. Let them come,” Rose says.

“But they’ll kill you!”

“Leave me here to die,” she says.

“I did not buy you  _ 1989 _ on vinyl so you could tune everything out while bigots hunt you down like some kind of animal!”

Rose continues to gaze up at the ceiling. One hand reaches out to the record player and turns it up.

_ They are the hunters, we are the foxes... _

“Why do I have do everything myself around here?” Joey grumbles.

As Juicy’s band approaches, he goes all out, setting traps like it’s  _ Home Alone _ . He scatters marbles under the doormat, rigs a bag of tools to drop its contents of hammers and wrenches and power tools on whoever opens the door, and dangles a rope enticingly out an open window anchored only by a 45 lb bag of water softener salt. He heats up the brass door knobs with a blowtorch until they glow a faint, sinister tangerine. And although it kills him to deface the house that he’s spent so much love looking after, he coats the stairs in a layer of tar and painstakingly sets nails point-up on each step. The finishing touch is to turn on the surround sound so they can’t find her just by following the sound of Taylor Swift.

When he’s done, he stands in front of Rose’s door with a baseball bat and a can of pepper spray to await their guests.

 

A southwestern wind has ushered in angry thunderheads, the first hint of rain in weeks. All is quiet except for the faint lyrics that come from inside the house:

_ And the sky turned black like the perfect storm... _

A mismatched caravan of shitty souped-up trucks and shiny Range Rovers screeches to a halt outside the gates.

Of course the gates are locked. Joey may have booby trapped the house, but he doesn’t mean to make this easy. Juicy gets back into her truck at the head of the pack. She reverses a few yards and then rams the gates open.

Joey winces from inside, only imagining what they must look like from hearing the screech of mangled metal.

The cars pull into the yard, fanning out. They pay no mind to where they park, running over very many of Luisa’s carefully tended plants in the process. As the engines stop, the crew takes a moment to peer up at the manor. Juicy has already kicked her car door open and is rummaging for supplies. The rest of them are a little more reluctant to leave their cars.

“This place gives me the fuckin’ creeps,” one guy says.

“If you wanna be a pussy, then by all means, leave,” Juicy says as she slings her ammunition bag onto her back. “Makes no difference to me.”

The guy mumbles something, but clambers out of his truck.

“Take whatever you want, but remember, the monster’s mine,” Juicy says, pumping the barrel of her shotgun. “Let the hunt begin.”

The first man is incapacitated when he burns his hand on the doorknob.

“Leave him,” Jucy says as he screams and clutches his blistering hand to his chest.

The second man is taken out when he takes a running start to kick down the doors and slips on the doormat, banging his head hard on a door knocker and falling down the steps. He’s knocked unconscious.

Juicy sighs. “You’re useless, all of you.” She lifts her shotgun and blows two holes where the doorknobs are, kicking the splintered doors open.

Music drifts out to greet them. There’s something surprisingly eerie about Taylor’s melancholy pop ballads echoing in a seemingly empty house.

“You two, go that way,” Juicy says, pointing toward the kitchen. “You two, upstairs. You, with me.”

They all go their separate ways.

Two of them head for the dining room.

“Hey, uh, you know how when the Mystery gang splits up and Shaggy and Scooby always, always run into the monster?” one of the guys asks.

“Yeah, what’s your point?” the other one says as he starts piling his arms with the good china.

“I don’t think we should split up,” he whispers. “Juicy’s the only one that really wants to kill this thing.”

“So why are you here?”

“I just want proof that there  _ is _ a monster, and I can do that when Juicy drags its body out of here.”

“I don’t even think there’s a monster. If someone went through all the effort of booby trapping the house, they obviously knew we were coming. Even if there was a monster, it’d be long gone by now. Here, put these in my backpack.”

“It’s real, man. I was there.”

“If you’re so scared, then you can go wait out in the car like the chicken you are. I’m just trying to steal stuff. Don’t be such a downer.”

“Craig, two guys are seriously injured outside.”

“I said, don’t be such a downer.” He pulls open a drawer. “Dude, actual silver spoons!”

Meanwhile, Juicy and her companion have discovered the basement. When he opens a door, she manages to get out of the way of a few dozen pounds of metal tools falling from a duffel bag. He isn’t quite so lucky. She leaves him there, groaning and half-conscious, while she sweeps the rest of the rooms in the basement. She’s just finishing up when a cry of pain from upstairs piques her interest.

Hoping that they’ve managed to flush the monster out, she hurries upstairs...only to find another one of her group rolling on the floor and howling in pain.

It had been dim enough inside that the first man trying to go upstairs hadn’t been able to see the nails on the steps. He’d stepped right on one and it’d gone through his shoe. His partner had thrown his hands up and made a run for it. “I don’t care about some stupid monster. I just want to get out of here in one piece!” His car had backed into an avocado tree in his haste to get away.

Juicy rolls her eyes. “Typical. The first sign of trouble and the men give up. And you, shut up. You’ll draw the monster out and trust me, it’ll go for the easiest kill.” She kicks the guy on the ground. His cries quiet to whimpers. She points at the remaining two. “Let’s go. It’s just the three of us now. And it’s obviously up there.”

“How are we going to get up there if the stairs are covered with nails?”

“There’s gotta be another way up there. Come on. We’ll look outside.”

Craig falls victim to the rope-attached-to-the-weight trick and is knocked out by the falling bag of salt. He also breaks all his stolen goods, if the crunch when he lands on his backpack is anything to go by.

“No matter,” Juicy says. “The open window is our way in. I’ll just use my grappling hook.”

“Why do you have a grappling hook with your hunting stuff?” the one remaining guy, Will, asks. It’s clear he’s more than a little nervous at this point.

“Why not? You’ll never know when it’ll come in handy,” she says, swinging it up and catching it easily on the windowsill. She climbs up and throws the rope down to him. “Well?”

“Maybe I’ll sit this one out. I don’t know if this is a good idea anymore.”

“Paul told me you still piss your pants at night occasionally and if you’re gonna pussyfoot around, I certainly can’t be held accountable if I accidentally let it slip to the fawning public when I’m plied with drinks and hailed as a conquering hero, now can I?”

He sighs, and hauls himself up just as fat raindrops start to fall.

“See?” she says, clapping him on the back when he clambers into the room. Lightning forks across the sky, followed by a distant crack of thunder. “Nothing scary here at all.”

Of course, that’s before she opens the door and finds Joey waiting on the other side.

“Hello,” he says before he sprays them both with pepper spray.

Fortunately for Juicy, she was standing slightly behind Will, who gets a faceful of pepper spray. She turns her head away and rams into Joey with a shoulder while Will goes down, screaming. She wrestles the can away from him, her cheek and lips burning, and sits on him, cooly pulling a pistol and cocking it in his face. “Where is it?” she hisses after a coughing fit.

“Where is what?” He struggles under her, trying to get enough leverage to bash her with his bat.

“Don’t play dumb, old man! Where’s the monster?”

He laughs in her face. “The only one here is you.”

Juicy snarls and sprays him with his own pepper spray. She gets off him and stalks down the hallway, kicking in doors and entering gun first. As she’s working her way to Rose, Luisa’s car skids to a halt in the front yard next to the rest of their cars.

She ignores the ruins of her garden and the men she has she step over to get into the house. “Joey? Rose?”

“Get out of here, Miss Luisa! She has guns!” Joey shouts in a raspy voice, his eyes swollen.

“I can’t let Juicy kill her!” Luisa says, preparing to climb the stairs until she realizes that they’re covered in something black. She flips the light switch to find the mess. “Aw come on, Joey!”

“What did you think I was going to do when you gave me advance notice?”

“Run, obviously. Ugh.” She gingerly takes a step, making sure to avoid the nails. “Hold on. I’m coming, Rose!”

She doesn’t hear her.

Juicy finds her in the last room she tries. Lightning flashes, illuminating Rose’s left side as she stares out at the backyard garden from the window seat. Rose glances at Juicy’s entrance and then goes back to watching the rain.

“Finally,” Juicy mutters, aiming her shotgun at Rose’s still form. “You’ll be the crowning jewel of my collection.”

The blast is explosive indoors.

Rose roars as the shell rips into her ribs.

“ROSE!” Luisa slams open the door and tackles Juicy. “GET AWAY FROM HER!”

They grapple over the shotgun until it’s flung into the dark recesses of the room. Juicy pulls her pistol and points it at her. “Luisa, can’t you see it’s hurting you?”

“That’s hard to believe when  _ you’re _ the one aiming a gun at me,” Luisa says, breathing hard.

Rose lurches to her hands and knees, and then to her feet. Blood gushes from the hole in her side, dark and sluggish.

“Rose!” Luisa starts to move toward her, but Juicy blocks her path, her gun still pointed at Luisa.

“Not another step.”

“Are you gonna shoot me?”

“If that’s what it takes to save you.”

“That’s so fucked up.”

“Luisa,” Rose says, her voice gravelly. She pauses to cough and wipe a spat of blood from her mouth with the back of a paw. “Go. She’s here for me.”

“For the last time, I’m not going to let her kill you!”

“I’m not letting you get hurt because of me!”

“You already broke my heart! It’s a little late for that!”

“See?” Juicy says triumphantly. “I was right. It hurt you.”

“Not the way you’re thinking. And she’s never betrayed my trust the way you have, so butt out.”

Rose sighs. “This was never supposed to happen.”

“Yeah, I get it,” Luisa snaps. “Having me in your life was such a huge inconvenience for you.”

“That’s not what I mean.”

“Look, I don’t know what’s going on and quite frankly, I don’t care,” Juicy says. “I’m here for one reason and one reason only: your head.”

“You’re quite welcome to it if you can take it.”

“For god’s sake, stop goading her!” Luisa gets in between Juicy and Rose and tries to push the gun away. Juicy doesn’t budge.

Rose growls. “I should’ve let that gator snack on a few of your fingers if I knew you were always going to be so reckless with your safety.”

“Bite me.”

“You’d enjoy it too much.”

“No I wouldn’t. I’m not in the mood. I’m livid!”

BANG!

Rose howls again.

“What was that for?” Luisa screams, completely ignoring Juicy’s gun as she rushes over to Rose to press her hands against a new gunshot wound just under Rose’s neck.

“I’m trying to kill it! Am I supposed to wait until everyone’s ready?”

“Yes!”

“I don’t think you understand how a hunt is supposed to go.”

“This is just straight-up murder!”

“I like to think of it as a public service, especially since it’s been terrorizing the general public.”

“Don’t frame it like that when we all know you’re only doing this for yourself.”

“Those two are basically the same thing. Now move aside or I won’t be responsible if you get caught in the crossfire.”

“No.”

Rose sighs and shoves her out of the way. Before Juicy can fire again, she’s bounded across the room and pushed the pistol down with one paw. “You wanted a fight? I’ll give you a fight,” she says, her voice reverberating. When she lifts her hand, the barrel of the gun is buckled and deformed.

To her credit, instead of freezing up, Juicy merely tosses it aside and draws a hunting knife. “I was hoping to use this for the grand finale and skin you, but it’ll do in a pinch,” she snarls.

Luisa stares in horror as Juicy makes Rose retreat with flashing cuts and jabs. She knows Rose is fast, but Juicy seems to be faster. As much of a braggart as Juicy is, she’s not as incompetent as Luisa was hoping for. Rose tries to take a swipe at her, her claws fully extended, and is pushed back with a thin slice to her inner forearm.

When Rose is backed into a corner, Juicy kicks her in the abdomen, digging her foot into the bloody hole from the shotgun, and sends her crashing through the window and onto the widow’s walk in a hail of broken glass.

Rose grunts as she stands with some effort. “That was wholly...unnecessary. There are doors...that lead out here, you know.”

“Do you ever shut up?” Juicy advances, slashing. Three new cuts open on Rose’s arm and chest as she braces herself against the balustrade in the onslaught. “I can see why Luisa was too good for you.”

The comment takes Rose by surprise enough that Juicy has the opportunity to plunge her knife into Rose’s thigh. She screams. For a second, they stare at each other, panting and soaked through with rain and spattered with mostly Rose’s blood.

“Don’t you think...I know that?” Rose whispers.

Juicy laughs and pushes her off the balcony, freeing her knife. Rose falls hard on the roof tiles, rolling to a stop a few feet from the edge.

Juicy jumps down from the railing herself, landing lightly. She saunters toward her, lightning making the blade shine. “Did you think she loved you? Did you think you could make her happy? Did you think you would ever be enough for her?”

Rose bows her head. This is the end and they both know it. “No,” she breathes, barely audible over the wind and the rain. “No, I didn’t.”

“LIAR!”

Juicy looks up just in time to get whacked in the face with a baseball bat. She staggers off, holding her jaw.

Luisa drops the bat and unslings a compound bow, nocking an arrow. “Rose, if you die, I swear to god I’ll kill you myself,” she says, keeping her eyes trained on Juicy. “We’re going to have a long conversation about being dumb once I deal with Juicy here.”

Who is making her way back, massaging her jaw. “Nice swing,” she says, her words garbled with blood. She spits out a tooth. “Still won’t save your girlfriend.”

“Don’t bet on it,” Luisa says, aiming for Juicy.

“Is that my bow?”

“Yes.” While Juicy had been busy cutting Rose up, Luisa had spotted her discarded ammunition bag and dug through it, looking for something she could use.

“Oh babe, put that down. You’ll hurt yourself,” Juicy says placatingly, moving toward her.

“Drop the knife and put your hands up or I’ll shoot you.” She holds her ground and draws the bowstring back further. Her hands and her voice are steady. “I won’t hesitate, bitch!”

Juicy hesitates. Luisa can see her glance from the arrow to Rose collapsed behind her. She can see the moment Juicy decides she’s bluffing and starts to spring forward, intent on finishing the job.

But Luisa isn’t bluffing.

She lets the arrow fly. It buries itself in Juicy’s hand, causing her to reflexively drop the knife.

“You shot me,” she says. “How…?”

Luisa nocks another arrow in one even motion. “I’m a nationally ranked archer.”

Juicy is so shocked she takes a few steps backwards, losing her balance and... toppling off the roof. There’s a sickening crack a second and a half later.

Luisa drops the bow and clambers her way across to Rose, sending loose tiles skittering over the edge. “Someone really needs to take a look at this roof,” she says, smiling tremulously. She kneels at her side and leans over the shotgun wound. She can make out the shattered edges of broken ribs. “No chance of your magic spit or your healing factor pulling a deus ex machina this time, huh?”

_ Bandaids don’t fix bullet holes... _

Rose shakes her head with some effort. “Too much blood. Even if I did...wouldn’t fix my bones or my lungs...would just do its best to close up...”

“This is all my fault. If I hadn’t told Juicy about you, this never would’ve happened.”

“Something would’ve happened...sooner or later. If you wanna play...the blame game, it was my fault... leaving tracks...by country club...luring fuckboys here in the first place...should’ve known better.”

“But you never got shot until I showed up and now you’ve been shot in two separate incidents within the span of a year. Maybe I should leave for good,” she jokes, but it doesn’t quite mask the beginnings of a sob.

_ These hands had let it go free, and this love came back to me... _

“You came back,” Rose says, her voice full of wonder, blinking raindrops out of her eyes.

“Of course I came back.” Luisa is crying in earnest now.

Rose hums, her breathing labored, and cups Luisa’s cheek. “You deserve better...what I can give you.”

Luisa clasps her hands around Rose’s on her cheek. “You don’t get to choose what I deserve,” she says fiercely. “I don’t care what I deserve. I want you. I love you, you idiot.”

“Mmm, love you too,” Rose sighs, her eyes closing, her hand slipping from Luisa’s grasp.

“No. Wake up. Wake up! Joey! Joey, help!” she cries.

“I’m coming!” Joey calls from inside, followed by a bunch of crashing.

“Right, he got pepper sprayed. Rose, hey! Don’t die! I’ll fucking kill you!” In a last ditch attempt to do something, anything, she bends down and presses her lips to Rose’s forehead…

...and is blown backward by blinding white light emanating from Rose.

Luisa raises her hands to shield her eyes, only starting to panic when Rose starts to rise into the air. Aliens? God? “What’s happening? Hey, I was kidding about the deus ex machina thing! Don’t take her! She’s not dead yet!”

_ Someday when you leave me, I bet these memories follow you around... _

“Will someone turn off that goddamn record?” Luisa screams.

Her words have no effect. Several heart-stopping moments later, Rose is gently deposited on the roof again and the light fades. The rain fades to a mist and then stops altogether.

She still looks like Rose. The same furry face, the claws, the horns. The only thing that’s different is she’s lacking all the bleeding wounds. It’s a good look for her.

“Rose?”

She groans and rolls onto her side. “Ugh, I feel like I’ve been hit by a truck.”

“You’re okay!” Luisa throws her arms around her. “Never do that again.”

“Almost die? I don’t do it on purpose.” She pats her fully healed torso and pokes her fingers through the bloody holes left in her clothes. “Weird. That’s never happened before.”

Joey bursts onto the balcony, his eyes still swollen shut. “Mistress? Miss Luisa said you’re okay? Did you break the curse?”

“No?” Rose turns her hands over. “Still beastly.”

“How do you know if the curse is broken?” Luisa asks.

“Something was supposed to happen to the enchanted rosebush.”

“Oh! I’ve got it in the car! Let me go see!” She slips across the tiles and pulls herself onto the widow’s walk and back into the house.

Rose follows her, albeit more slowly, and stops the record player before she guides Joey down to the kitchen where she pours milk over his eyes over the sink. She’s just returning the milk to the fridge when Luisa enters the kitchen, looking very guilty.

“Let me just say that it was fine this morning and I was taking very good care of it.”

“Okay?”

She pulls it the pot out from behind her back. The plant is very obviously dead.

“Oh,” Rose says.

“What? What is it? What happened?” Joey asks, still bent over the sink.

“The rose is dead.”

“But you’re feeling okay?” Joey says urgently.

“Fine.”

Luisa frowns. “Why? What’s supposed to happen?”

“If it dies, I die. Allegedly.”

Luisa gasps before she shoves the pot at Rose. “And you  _ gave _ it to me? Without telling me I could’ve killed you? What were you thinking?”

Rose stares down at the rosebush and shrugs. “It made you happy.”

“You can’t gamble your life like that just to make me happy!”

She shrugs again.

Luisa sighs. “We’ve got to talk about coping with feelings that don’t involve preemptively breaking up over nothing or literally putting your life in someone else’s unknowing hands.”

“Let’s postpone that conversation.”

“So what now?”

“The fairy will come.”

“How do you know?”

“If the curse was really broken, she’ll show up. And I’ve got some questions for her.”

“In the meantime though, we should really do something about that dead body in the yard,” Joey says, blinking rapidly as the swelling recedes. “And the rest of this mess.”

 

They’re only a fraction of the way done cleaning up when a sleek blue Mercedes rolls up to the gates. Joey takes one look at Rose and goes to tell whoever it is, whether they’re the news or more people gawking at the “swamp monster” to go away.

He doesn’t get that far.

Their mystery guest pushes open the warped gates open with a wave of her hand and maneuvers around Joey in her heels.

“Miss, I must ask you to leave. Mistress Rose isn’t seeing guests at this time.”

She frowns. “Don’t you recognize me? I thought for sure she’d make an exception for me.”

“Should I?”

She looks down at herself. “Oh, how silly of me. I suppose this would jog your memory.” She gestures to herself up and down. Her silk blouse and high-waisted shorts transform into a pale green dress. Filmy wings sprout from her back. A cloud of glitter starts to rain over her. She pulls a flowery mask over her eyes. “I heard a curse was broken?”

When Joey shows her into the foyer where Rose and Luisa are sweeping up all the debris, the fairy looks around and sniffs. “God, I don’t remember any of my other curses causing this much destruction when they were broken.”

And then she lays eyes on Luisa.

“Dr. Alver? What are you doing here?”

Luisa looks up. “I’m sorry. I don’t believe I know you?”

She lifts her mask. “Yes, well, usually I don’t have my pointed ears and wings.”

Luisa gasps. “Petra? You’re the fairy?”

“You two know each other?” Rose asks, looking between the two of them.

“I used to be her obgyn before I lost my license. I didn’t know fairies needed doctors?”

“We’re not supposed to use magic on ourselves. It’s a sure way to be exiled back to the fairy realm and I really, really like Miami.”

Rose raises her eyebrows. “And cursing people isn’t?”

She scoffs. “Of course not. That’s the whole reason why I’m here. I’m only allowed to stay in the human realm if I keep up my quota of blessings and curses. Very stressful.”

“But why me? Just because I didn’t let you stay the night? That’s not a very good indicator of who deserves to be cursed in this day and age.”

“Yes, that is a problem. But fairy rules don’t change for millenia. The council is very slow to update their policies. And I’m bound to those old rules.”

Rose growls. “I don’t appreciate having to live like this because some old fairies won’t keep up with the times.”

Petra shrugs. “I’m just the peon that carries out orders. Take it up with customer service. Here’s their number.” She waves a hand and a business card pops out of thin air. She hands it over. “And I thought I was being very considerate with the magic I imbued here. The secret library was a particularly tasteful touch. But what does it matter? You’ve broken the curse.”

“Then why am I still like this? I thought I was supposed to turn human when the curse was broken.”

“You must have reservations. It’s supposed to revert you to your true form. If you prefer to be this way, that’s fine. Otherwise, I can override it and change you back.”

“I…” For so long, Rose has wanted nothing more than to go back to being human. But within the last year, Luisa has really showed her that there’s a silver lining to the way she is now. What do you think?” she asks Joey.

“Whatever you think is best, Rosie.”

“And you?”

“I love you no matter what you look like,” Luisa says, taking her hand. “Whatever makes you happy.”

“Or...I could give you a magic mask that’ll make you pass as human, as like an apology for cursing you just to meet my quota.”

“Sure, let’s go with that.”

She twirls a hand and a flesh-colored blob lands in her hands. She gives it to Rose. Rose glances at Joey and Luisa before she pulls it over her head. She’s expecting it to snag on her horns or get stuck (it’s very small), but to her surprise, it slides into place like a well-worn jacket. She feels herself shrink, her teeth blunting, her horns vanishing. In seconds, she’s flexing human fingers for the first time in years. But it’s not quite right. Her skin isn’t quite as translucent as she remembers. Her freckles are missing.

“Who am I? This isn’t my face.” Her voice is tinged with a southern accent.

“Technically, your face belongs to a Susanna Barnett, but she died a few years ago. She was from Alabama so I don’t anyone will recognize you this far away. All your official paperwork will been updated with this face if you want it.”

“Hey, not to interrupt or anything, but could I be turned into a beast as well?” Luisa asks innocently.

“No!” Rose interjects.

Petra raises an eyebrow. “I thought you were into monster fucking, not being a monster?”

“Both. Both is good. Imagine those thighs! And I wouldn’t say no to being six feet tall.”

Petra narrows her eyes, considering for a few moments before she says, “Nope. You need to have at least some deliberate corruption and you’re the physical embodiment of pure Florida sunshine.”

“What about my alcoholism?”

“Luisa,” Rose says, exasperated, “you do not need to be making a case for why she should curse you.”

“Tempting, but alcoholism is a disease and cursing you for that would be like cursing someone for having diabetes. Can’t do it.”

Jane suddenly strides into her house like this is some shitty sitcom with a laugh track. “Hey, asshole! I can’t believe you left me stranded with a bunch of old ladies this week. What could possibly be more important than drinking with your best...oh.” She catches sight of her. “Who are you?”

“It’s me, Rose.”

Jane notices Luisa and Petra, all decked out in her fairy regalia. “Am I interrupting something?”

“No,” Petra says, flicking her wand. She’s back in her Miami socialite attire. “I was just leaving. Rose broke the curse. I was just taking care of some loose ends.”

Jane doesn’t seem to be paying attention. She’s staring dumbstruck at Petra.

“Are you okay?” Luisa asks her.

“You’re the fairy?” Jane asks.

“Do you know Petra too? I swear this is like some wacky CW dramedy.”

“No,” Jane says, still gaping at Petra.

“Hey, didn’t you say you had choice words for the fairy once she showed up?” Rose asks, trying hard not to smile. “Here’s your chance.”

“Right.” Jane straightens up. “You did a very bad thing to my best friend and I…” She trails off. Petra looks confused.

“Please tell me you’re better than that in court,” Rose says.

“I am! I just...uh, wow, you’re really pretty,” she says to Petra.

There’s a bit of an awkward silence as the rest of them glance at each other.

“Okay well, as fun as it’s been catching up, I do have to get back to Miami. Congratulations on breaking the curse. Felicidades. Mazel tov. Gratulujeme. Nice seeing you again, Dr...er, Luisa. And you, I guess,” Petra says to each of them as she moves toward the exit.

“One last favor,” Joey says as he shakes her hand. She raises an eyebrow. “Can you do something about all the intruders, unconscious or dead, and their property on the premises? It’s gonna be such a hassle to clean up.”

“Oh yes, of course.” She waves her wand and the manor is spotless once more. “I took care of their memories as well. The dead one will have been killed in a freak hunting accident. And I fixed that roof.”

“Thank you so much,” Joey says. “You’re a lifesaver.”

“Now that’s what I call a convenient way to tie things up,” Rose whispers to Luisa.

“If that’s all? I mean this in the best possible way, but I hope I never see any of you again. Good luck with the rest of your lives,” Petra says as she exits.

“Remember to do regular self-breast exams!” Luisa calls after her.

“You’re not a doctor anymore!”

Luisa pouts. “Why does everyone keep bringing that up?”

It’s only starting to hit her now. Rose can’t stop grinning. “Because we’re all jealous we didn’t breeze through med school drunk.”

Luisa smirks. “I knew it.”

Jane seems to come to as well, shaking herself out of her stupor. “You said her name was Petra?”

Rose nods. “Allegedly.”

Jane inches toward the doors. “Would it be morally reprehensible if I started dating the woman who cursed you?”

Rose snorts. “You’re a lawyer. Since when do you care about morality?”

Jane nods. “That’s a good point. In that case, I’ve got to catch up to her before she hits the highway. See you later.”

“Don’t get cursed!” Rose tells her.

Jane pauses before she shrugs. “I’ll take my chances.” She pulls open the door and runs down the path.

“She’s totally going to get cursed,” Luisa murmurs to Rose.

And Rose, who can’t seem to contain her joy, twirls Luisa around and dips her. Luisa laughs. “Pass the chili flakes,” Rose says.

“Pass the chili flakes.”

Joey clutches his chest. “I’m afraid that’s a little too much excitement for such an old man. I’m retiring for real this time.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And that's a wrap! Thank you so much for all of your support these past few months, without which, I never would've completed this fic.

**Author's Note:**

> Now with [fanart!](https://andtherewerefireworks.tumblr.com/tagged/take-a-bite-of-my-heart-tonight)


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